THE  HOUSE 
OF  WAR 


MARMADUKE 
PICKTHALL 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 


BY 

MARMADUKE  PICKTHALL 


AUTHOR   Or 

'VEILED  woun,"  ETC. 


"  The  world  ii  a  comedy  to  those  who  think; 
ft  tragedy  to  those  who  feel.'! 

HORACE  WALPOLE,  Letter*. 


NEW  YORK 

DUFFIELD  AND  COMPANY 
1916 


COPTBIOHT,  1916, 

BT  DUFFIELD  &  CO. 


PREFATORY  NOTE 

"THE  House  of  War"  (Dar  ill  Harb)  was  the 
designation  given  formerly  to  all  those  Christians 
of  the  countries  conquered  by  the  Muslims  who 
declined  to  embrace  El  Islam.  It  simply  meant  that, 
being  technically  still  at  war  with  the  Mahometans, 
they  could  not  be  admitted  to  full  rights  of 
citizenship,  and  had  to  pay  an  annual  tribute  for 
their  lives,  in  return  for  which  they  had  protection 
and  specific  rights.  But  the  Christians  of  the  Turk- 
ish Empire  have  now,  for  several  generations,  be- 
come a  House  of  War  in  a  much  wider  sense,  a  de- 
velopment to  which  the  European  missionaries,  who 
come  and  go,  have,  often  inadvertently,  contributed. 

M.  W.  P. 


1521411 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 


BETWEEN  the  high,  mud-plastered  walls  of  flat- 
roofed  houses,  with  here  and  there  a  glimpse  of 
leafy  orchards,  a  never-ending  stream  of  country- 
people  flowed  into  the  Eastern  city.  The  sun  had 
just  arisen,  spreading  shadows  as  soft  and  deep  and 
rich  of  hue  as  Persian  rugs.  Behind  the  tower-like 
upper  storeys  and  some  trees  to  eastward  all  was 
molten  gold.  Doves  were  cooing,  hens  were  cluck- 
ing, sheep  were  baa-ing;  bugles  sounded  in  the  dis- 
tance from  the  Turkish  barracks ;  while  from  an 
unseen  smithy  near  at  hand  came  the  musical  clink 
of  a  hammer  on  iron.  People  sitting  up  on  mules 
and  donkeys  between  paniers  filled  with  garden- 
produce,  women  in  flowing  draperies  with  laden  trays 
or  pitchers  on  their  heads  and  children  clinging  to 
their  skirts,  advanced  continually,  their  footfalls 
noiseless  on  the  dusty  road.  Vendors  of  all  sorts  of 
foodstuff  raised  their  cries. 

Jemileh,  pupil  and  in  some  sort  servant  of  the 
English  missionary  ladies,  knelt  at  a  window  some 
eight  feet  above  the  road,  with  elbows  planted  on 
the  sill  and  chin  imprisoned  in  the  cup  of  her  joined 

7 


8  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

hands.  She  was  waiting  for  her  father  to  pass  by, 
as  was  his  custom  on  that  morning  of  the  week,  and 
in  the  meanwhile  strained  her  ears  to  catch  each 
accent  of  the  crowd,  showing  her  white  teeth  in  ap- 
preciation of  its  humours.  A  comely  black-browed 
maid  of  eighteen  summers,  she  could  look  as  meek 
as  mice  upon  occasion ;  but  now  her  glance  was  bold 
even  to  impudence. 

A  turbaned  man  of  woe-begone  appearance  called : 
"A  good  thing!  A  good  thing!"  in  plaintive  tones, 
alluding  to  the  slabs  of  bread  with  which  his  tray 
was  piled.  Another  breadseller  behind  him  cried 
with  glee :  "A  better  thing !  With  me,  my  masters  ! 
Praise  to  Allah!"  This  latter,  happening  to  catch 
sight  of  Jemileh  at  her  window,  grinned  up  at  her 
and  pointed  to  his  victim. 

"I  pursue  that  dotard  like  his  shadow,"  he  pro- 
claimed, "and  yet  he  has  not  wit  enough  to  change 
his  cry.  .  .  A  better  thing!"  he  yelled  again,  ex- 
ultant, as  the  other  once  more  raised  his  lamentable 
note. 

"O  Ibrahim,  the  Friend  of  God,  who  milked  the 
White  One !  O  mouth  and  gums !  O  cool  delight ! 
O  lemons !"  Cries  succeeded.  A  lengthy  string  of 
camels  passed  with  jangling  bells,  led  by  a  hooded 
Bedawi  upon  a  donkey.  The  long  barrel  of  an 
antique  gun  projected  from  behind  the  tribesman's 
shoulder.  Two  Turkish  soldiers,  barefoot,  out  at 
elbows,  under  high  red  fezzes,  sauntered  by,  singing 
and  holding  one  another's  hand. 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  9 

"O  Musa,  Striker  of  the  Rock!  O  fount  of 
Mercy!"  At  length  she  heard  a  well-known  voice 
upraised.  Her  father,  it  appeared,  was  selling  wa- 
ter-melons. Leaning  forward  to  attract  his  notice, 
she  saw  him  telegraphing  his  delight  at  spying  her. 
He  rode  his  donkey  underneath  the  window. 

"I  have  great  news,  O  my  father,  praise  to  Al- 
lah!" she  exclaimed.  "The  sister's  daughter  of  my 
ladies  has  arrived  from  the  land  of  the  English. 
She  is  young  and  fair.  She  loves  me  very  much." 

The  old  fellah  grimaced  and  gave  his  shoulders 
a  slight  shrug.  He  pushed  up  his  black  turban  and 
once-red  tarbush,  made  one  by  ancient  ties  of  dust 
and  sweat,  to  scratch  his  head  the  more  conveniently 
as  he  made  answer:  "Thou  art  blest,  perhaps.  I 
know  her  not.  Is  that  thy  news?" 

"There  is  much  more.  Have  patience,  O  my 
father !  Last  night  she  said  that  it  was  in  her  mind 
to  remain  in  our  country,  and  take  me  to  live  with 
her.  Her  parents  both  are  dead  and  she  is  rich  and 
free." 

"A  blessing  on  thy  lips!"  cried  the  fellah  with 
more  enthusiasm.  "The  village  will  receive  her  as  a 
queen.  There  is  the  new  house  which  the  sheykh 
has  built  for  letting.  I  will  speak  for  it.  She  needs 
a  groom,  there  is  thy  brother  Faris ;  a  steward — 
here  am  I  at  her  disposal.  But" — here  he  frowned 
and  scratched  his  head  again,  cursing  his  donkey's 
ancestry,  which  made  it  restless — "what  can  she  do 
among  us?  We  have  no  amusements  for  a  Prankish 


10  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

lady.     Build   not   on  her  decision,   she  will  surely 
change  it." 

"Listen!"  rejoined  Jemileh,  with  a  mocking  laugh. 
"Young  as  she  is,  and  beautiful,  she  wishes  to  con- 
vert the  people,  as  a  missionary.  She  loves  me  very 
much,  the  praise  to  Allah!" 

"Ho,  ho !"  laughed  Abu  Faris,  leaning  back  upon 
his  donkey.  "If  she  desires  a  convert,  here  am  I ! 
Let  her  but  feed  me,  clothe  me,  pay  me  monthly 
wages,  and — God  forgive  me — I  would  trample  on  a 
holy  image." 

"Hush,  O  my  father.  Speak  not  such  impiety," 
his  daughter  up  above  rebuked  him,  smiling. 

"Well,  in  sh' Allah,  she  will  come  to  us  at  Deyr 
Amun  in  order  that  the  neighbours  may  behold  thy 
greatness.  Antun  the  priest  still  frowns  on  me  for 
letting  thee  be  brought  up  as  a  Brutestant.  He 
threatens  me  with  Hell  hereafter.  But  I  put  it  to 
him  thus :  'Suppose,'  I  say,  'a  blessed  fool  appeared 
before  thee  suddenly,  and  offered  for  a  child  of  thine, 
rank,  fortune  and  the  noblest  education  all  for  noth- 
ing, wouldst  thou  reject  the  offer,  O  our  father 
Antun,  simply  because  the  mad  one  was  a  Brutes- 
tant?' He  swears  he  would  reject  it.  I  know  bet- 
ter. .  .  .  Allah!  the  breeze  is  hot  already;  I  grow 
thirsty.  Have  you  any  water?" 

"Go  to  the  door  and  knock,"  replied  Jemileh. 
"Abbas  will  give  thee  water  and  some  food.  Afifeh 
is  not  yet  astir.  She  will  not  catch  us."  The  girl 
then  left  the  window  and  her  bedroom,  and  stole 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  11 

on  tiptoe  through  the  sleeping  house.  Her  father 
was  already  in  the  courtyard  when  she  reached  it. 
After  the  dusty  crowded  road  the  clean-swept  white 
quadrangle  seemed  a  lake  of  coolness;  the  shrubs 
which  grew  in  boxes  in  the  centre  made  it  like  a 
garden.  The  fellah  sank  down  with  a  sigh  upon  the 
bottom  step  of  a  stone  flight  conducting  to  the  up- 
per chambers  by  an  open  gallery.  Jemileh,  dart- 
ing down  those  stairs,  squatted  beside  him  and  em- 
braced his  arm.  Abbas  the  negro,  smiling,  brought 
a  jar  of  water  and  a  tray  of  food,  then  sat  down  on 
his  heels  against  the  sunlit  wall,  taking  the  don- 
key's headrope  in  his  hands. 

"Hast  heard  our  news,  O  Abu  Faris  ?"  he  inquired. 

"Aye,  praise  to  Allah.  Jemileh  has  been  telling 
me." 

"Hush!"  hissed  Jemileh.  "He  knows  naught  of 
that.  It  is  about  the  Pasha  that  he  means." 

"About  the  Pasha  I  know  nothing  verily.  What 
is  the  news  of  which  thou  speakest,  O  my  soul?" 

"The  Wali  comes  to  this  our  house  to-day." 

The  negro's  grin  was  widened  by  two  inches. 
Again  Jemileh  whispered  in  her  father's  ear:  "It 
is  a  folly  of  the  ladies.  They  invited  the  old  Mus- 
lim devil  to  our  prize-giving." 

"Hush !"  breathed  the  father,  with  an  anxious  eye 
upon  Abbas,  to  whom  he  answered  with  extreme 
politeness — 

"Ma  sh' Allah!  It  is  an  honour.  Naturally  thou 
art  pleased,  O  sheykh." 


12  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

"Naturally,  I  am  pleased,"  replied  the  negro,  "yet 
hardly  in  the  way  thou  thinkest,  O  my  eyes.  I  know 
well  that  His  Excellency  is  God's  creature  just  as 
I  am,  neither  more  nor  less.  I  am  glad  that  he  is 
coming  for  the  reason  that  he  is  a  Muslim.  In  all 
the  twenty  years  that  I  have  kept  the  doorway  of 
this  house  no  Muslim  better  educated  than  myself 
has  passed  the  threshold;  so  that  I  fear  the  ladies 
may  have  come  to  think  that  all  the  Muslimin  on 
earth  are  poor,  despised,  illiterate  like  me.  But  now 
the  Wali  comes — a  mighty  potentate.  His  visit  will 
assure  them  it  is  otherwise." 

"May  his  visit  bring  all  good !"  said  Abu  Faris 
amiably,  as,  having  drunk  his  fill,  he  rose  to  go.  He 
added,  for  Jemileh's  ear  alone:  "Curse  his  re- 
ligion!" 

Therewith  he  took  the  headrope  from  the  negro's 
hand,  embraced  his  daughter  fondly,  and  with  sighs 
led  forth  his  donkey  from  that  cool  retreat. 

Jemileh,  flying  back  to  her  own  room,  was  inter- 
cepted by  the  Sitt  Afifeh,  not  yet  dressed.  The  Sitt 
Afifeh  was  the  right  hand  of  the  Misses  Berenger, 
their  mouthpiece  in  transactions  with  the  people  of 
the  country.  She  ruled  the  native  household  with 
a  rod  of  iron.  Jemileh,  to  divert  her  scolding,  cried 
at  sight  of  her,  "Abbas  is  praising  God  because 
the  Pasha  comes." 

"May  his  house  be  destroyed!"  rejoined  the  Sitt 
Afifeh  promptly.  "It  is  enough  to  make  one  die 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  13 

of  shame  before  the  missionaries.  The  ladies  were 
possessed  with  devils  to  invite  the  dog." 

In  religious  indignation  she  forgot  her  purpose 
to  upbraid  Jemileh.  The  latter  hurriedly  performed 
her  morning  tasks,  then  ran  upstairs  and  rapped 
upon  a  bedroom  door,  first  softly,  then  a  little 
louder,  till  she  heard:  "Come  in!" 

The  English  girl,  whom  she  had  thought  to  find 
asleep,  was  up  and  dressed  already,  kneeling  at  the 
open  window  to  observe  the  crowd  just  as  Jemileh 
had  been  doing  two  hours  earlier.  As  she  looked 
round  upon  Jemileh's  entrance,  the  light  entangled 
in  her  hair  was  like  a  halo.  The  dark  girl  could 
have  knelt  and  worshipped  that  fair  vision  in  which 
were  all  her  hopes  of  high  preferment. 

"I  came  to  see  if  I  could  serf  you  in  your  dressing. 
But  now  I  see  you  are  already  dressed.  I  luf  you, 
and  I  wish  to  serf  you  always,"  said  Jemileh  softly. 

"Dear  Jemileh,"  came  the  answer.  "Stay  here  a 
minute  and  explain  things  to  me.  It  is  all  so  new." 
The  fair  girl  took  the  dark  girl's  hand  and  stroked 
it  lovingly.  Jemileh's  heart  beat  loud  with  pride 
as  she  knelt  down  beside  her. 

"What  is  that  man  selling?  You  see  the  man  I 
mean,  with  the  green  turban." 

"He  is  a  Muslim  holy  man.  He's  selling  charms. 
Those  beeble  fery  suberstitious,  wicked  beeble." 

"What  is  that  man  with  all  the  weapons  stuck 
about  him,  standing  talking  with  those  others  near 
the  mosque?" 


14  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

"That  is  another  Muslim  from  the  mountains. 
They  too  are  fery  wicked  beeble,  fery  safage.  If 
anybody  sbeak  to  him  a  little  sharb  he  kill  them 
same  as  you  or  me  would  kill  a  dog." 

"I  don't  kill  dogs,  do  you?"  rejoined  the  lady. 
They  both  laughed.  "Oh,  how  I  wish  that  I  could 
understand  what  they  are  saying!  Jemileh,  you 
must  teach  me  Arabic  at  once.  What  did  that  man 
there  tell  the  other  who  is  laughing?  Say  it  first 
in  English,  then  in  Arabic,  so  that  I  can  get  one 
phrase  by  heart." 

"He  ask  God  to  be  so  good  as  to  burn  that  other 
fellow's  father." 

"Oh  dear!    I  won't  learn  that!" 

"It's  all  like  that,  the  talk  they  make  out  there. 
They're  Muslims  mostly — fery  wicked,  not  like  Eng- 
lish beeble.  In  the  fillage  where  I  come  from,  all 
are  Christians,  truly,  though  ignorant  and  suber- 
stitious.  But  here  the  beeble  mostly  Muslims — 
dreadful  beeble !  I  wish  that  they  could  all  be  killed. 
I  hate  them!" 

"You  must  not  talk  like  that,"  replied  the  fair 
girl,  horrified.  "They  cannot  be  all  bad.  It  is  sim- 
ply that  they  have  not  known  the  truth.  We  must 
not  hate  them,  dear  Jemileh ;  we  must  love  them  and 
do  all  that  in  us  lies  to  turn  their  hearts  and  lead 
them  to  the  truth."  The  fair  girl's  tone  had  changed 
completely  in  a  trice.  Instead  of  the  frank  speech 
of  comradeship,  she  now  used  words  as  if  each  one 
had  been  a  holy  charm,  with  earnest  hesitations  and 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  15 

a  heightened  colour.  Here  was  a  weakness  to  be 
humoured  and  caressed. 

"All  what  you  say  is  fery  true,  Miss  Elsie,  and 
you  sbeak  it  like  an  angel.  I  do  not  really  hate  these 
beeble  as  I  said,"  murmured  Jemileh  humbly,  when 
the  lecture  was  quite  finished.  "I'm  fery  sorry  for 
the  boor  uneducated  Muslims,  and  I  wish  to  teach 
them.  But  the  great  ones  who  obbress  the  Chris- 
tians, they  are  bad.  That's  why  we  are  so  sorry 
that  the  ladies  ask  the  Wali  to  our  barty.  They 
think  him  such  a  nice  old  gentleman.  He's  fery 
wicked  really.  He  had  Christians — thousands  of 
them — massacred — not  here,  but  in  Armenia,  where 
he  was  before.  My  father  and  my  mother,  they 
could  tell  you  things — true  things  of  what  some 
Muslims  have  been  doing — which  would  make  you 
cry.  Only  the  day  before  yesterday  some  Mus- 
lims massacre  the  Italians  which  were  working  on  the 
new  tramways,  and  the  Wall,  when  they  tell  him,  he 
just  laugh.  It's  dreadful  that  he's  coming  here  into 
a  Christian  house." 

"It  does  seem  rather  much,"  agreed  the  fair  girl 
warmly.  "My  aunts  can't  know  his  character. 
Some  one  should  tell  them." 

"Don't  tell,  I  beg.  They'll  think  I'm  makin'  mis- 
chief. Berhabs  he's  not  so  bad  as  beeble  say.  I 
always  think  that  we  ought  to  be  more  batient 
with  the  Muslims  than  with  the  Christians  what  have 
always  known  what's  right.  Oh,  dear  Miss  Elsie, 
there  is  nothing  I  should  luf  like  labourin'  along 


16  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

with  you  to  make  them  good  and  gentle — make  theni 
earnest  Christians!" 

The  dark  girl  kept  a  watch  on  her  companion's 
face.  She  feared  for  half  a  minute  she  had  over- 
done it.  But  Elsie  stroked  her  hand  approvingly, 
and  murmured:  "Dear  Jemileh!"  All  was  well. 


II 


MORE  than  thirty  years  before  the  day  on  which 
this  story  opens,  three  independent  English  dam- 
sels, Jane,  Gertrude  and  Sophia  Berenger,  had  set 
out  from  the  neighbourhood  of  Tunbridge  Wells  to 
visit  Palestine.  Their  pilgrimage  accomplished, 
they  had  chosen  to  extend  their  Eastern  tour  to 
Antioch  and  Asia  Minor.  In  pursuance  of  this 
resolution,  they  had  travelled  for  some  days  on 
horseback  through  romantic  scenery,  sleeping  in 
tents  and  eating  curious  food,  when  Gertrude,  who 
had  been  the  moving  spirit  of  the  expedition,  fell  ill 
of  typhoid  fever  in  a  lonely  place.  There  was  no 
doctor,  nor  any  possibility  of  obtaining  all  those 
comforts  which  in  illness  Europeans  deem  necessi- 
ties. Her  sisters  did  their  best  to  nurse  her  prompt- 
ly, assisted  by  the  native  servants,  of  their  camp 
— all  of  them  men,  which  was  at  first  embarrassing. 
But  those  men,  though  wild-looking  and  adherents 
of  a  false  religion,  showed  untiring  kindness  and 
such  delicacy  that  the  ladies  Jane  and  Sophia  ever 
after  felt  indebted  to  the  people  of  the  country. 
Gertrude,  in  delirium,  was  carried  gently  by  the 
men  themselves.  Moved  thus  by  easy  stages,  she 
survived  until  they  reached  a  city,  where  the  Eng- 

17 


18  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

lish  consul  and  his  wife,  good  Christian  people,  re- 
ceived her  in  their  home  to  die. 

After  her  death  Jane  and  Sophia  could  not  en- 
dure the  thought  of  a  return  to  England.  "To  be 
near  her,"  as  they  put  it,  they  remained  in  the 
strange  city,  opening  a  school  for  girls  as  her  me- 
morial. 

These  ladies  knew  no  Arabic  beyond  "Good-day," 
nor  had  they  recognized  the  need  to  learn  that  lan- 
guage. All  instruction  in  their  school  was  thus  ad- 
ministered in  English;  and  the  kind  of  education 
there  obtainable,  being  the  same  which  the  Misses 
Berenger  had  received  at  the  hands  of  an  old-fash- 
ioned governess  at  home  in  England,  was  not  exactly 
suited  to  the  daughters  of  a  wilder  country.  But 
the  atmosphere  of  gentle  goodness,  the  sweet  man- 
ners and  high  moral  tone  of  the  establishment,  gained 
it  renown.  Soon,  in  addition  to  the  twelve  poor 
children — originally  intended  to  be  orphans — whom 
they  entertained  in  memory  of  their  departed  sister, 
the  ladies  were  entreated  to  take  paying  pupils, 
daughters  of  the  wealthy  native  Christians  whose 
rage  for  European  manners  overcame  their  dread 
of  heresy. 

For  thirty  years  the  ladies  led  a  still,  secluded 
life,  as  English  as  it  could  be  made  in  that  far  coun- 
try, devoted  to  the  welfare  of  their  pupils  and  their 
native  servants.  Two  or  three  times  in  the  year 
they  drove  out  in  a  hired  carriage  to  pay  calls  upon 
the  Protestant  community,  Abbas  upon  the  box  be- 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  19 

side  the  driver,  with  strict  orders  (given  to  him 
through  the  Sitt  Afifeh)  on  no  account  to  let  that 
driver  whip  the  horses.  And  twice  a  year,  on  the 
occasion  of  their  prize-giving,  they  entertained  the 
British  colony  to  prayers  and  tea. 

One  day  on  which  they  thus  drove  out  to  pay 
their  calls,  it  happened  that  they  met  the  Wali  driv- 
ing in  full  state  with  troops  and  outriders,  and 
when  he  looked  at  them  had  thought  it  right  to 
bow.  "He  is,  after  all,  the  ruler  of  the  land  we 
live  in,"  said  Miss  Jane.  Their  bows  had  been  re- 
turned with  courtesy,  and  they  had  carried  with 
them  the  remembrance  of  a  very  pleasant  smile  il- 
lumining an  old  man's  face,  which  in  repose  had 
touched  them  by  its  patient,  sad  expression.  In 
their  calm  life  this  chance  encounter  made  a  notable 
event.  Vague  tales  had  reached  them  of  the  Wall's 
wickedness ;  they  had  heard  him  named  with  hor- 
ror in  the  talk  of  missionaries  as  one  whose  hands 
were  red  with  Christian  blood.  He  had  at  least  a 
human  soul,  they  thought. 

"We  ought  to  be  more  thankful  than  we  often 
are  to  God  that  we  were  granted  to  be  born  in  Eng- 
land, in  a  Christian  home.  We  should  not  be  too 
ready  to  blame  other  people  for  faults  arising  from 
the  lack  of  these  advantages,"  Miss  Jane  observed. 
"Who  knows  what  sort  of  education  Hasan  Pasha 
had  in  earlier  years !  He  may  have  never  met  with 
gentle  influences.  In1  that  case,  all  they  tell  of  him 


20  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

would  be  in  part  excusable,  though  I,  for  one,  do 
not  believe  a  half  of  it." 

These  English  missionary  ladies  felt  thencefor- 
ward towards  Hasan  Pasha,  an  aged  Turk  accused 
of  bloody  massacre,  as  towards  a  brother  who  had 
erred  through  ignorance.  They  longed  to  show 
him  sympathy  and,  with  that  end  in  view,  decided 
to  invite  him  to  their  prize-giving.  His  answer 
to  the  invitation,  couched  in  courtly  French,  de- 
lighted them;  and  when  the  other  missionaries 
blamed  the  step  which  they  had  taken  and  harped 
upon  the  Wali's  wickedness,  Miss  Jane  was  moved 
to  make  the  only  harsh  remark  that  any  one  remem- 
bered to  have  heard  from  her — 

"He  is  at  least  a  gentleman.  It  is  quite  a  treat 
to  meet  one,  really,  after  all  these  years." 

Argument  was  useless  both  with  her  and  Miss 
Sophia.  The  pair  had  always  until  now  appeared 
compact  of  mildness.  Now  they  had  suddenly  be- 
come great  ladies  addressing  persons  of  inferior 
breeding.  Their  friends  retired  discomfited,  with 
angry  murmurs. 

Things  were  at  this  pass,  the  two  Misses  Berenger 
ignoring  the  objections  of  the  Protestant  com- 
munity, when  the  coming  of  their  niece  from  Eng- 
land made  diversion. 

Upon  the  little  English  colony  the  appearance 
of  Miss  Elsie  Wilding  made  a  great  impression,  fa- 
vourable in  the  main.  She  was  fresh  from  home, 
fashionably  dressed,  and  evidently  well  endowed  with 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  21 

this  world's  goods,  yet  with  it  all  quite  unaffected 
and  an  earnest  Christian.  The  missionaries  buzzed 
around  her  amiably,  and  the  two  young  men  of  the 
society — a  sandy-haired  Scotch  doctor  and  a  Welsh 
dispenser — were  at  once  enslaved.  Her  aunts  were 
glad,  although  she  brought  with  her  a  breeze  of  in- 
dependence and  rash  counsels  which  disturbed  the 
house.  She  came  from  the  same  neighbourhood 
where  they  had  spent  their  youth;  had  been  bred  in 
the  same  Evangelical  school  of  thought,  had  been 
confirmed  in  the  same  church,  mentioned  familiar 
names  at  every  turn  of  conversation.  It  was  de- 
lightful to  them  thus  to  breathe  again  the  atmos- 
phere of  bygone  days;  but  it  was  sad  too,  since 
it  made  them  realize  how  completely  they  had  fallen 
out  of  touch  with  English  life.  They  in  their  far 
retreat  were  left  unchanged,  and  even  unaware  that 
change  was  going  on — "like  fossils  that  we  are,"  as 
Miss  Jane  phrased  it. 

Observant  of  their  niece's  conduct  and  demeanour, 
they  saw  how  great  the  change  had  been  since  they 
were  girls.  Elsie  habitually  used  expressions  which 
in  their  young  days  had  been  esteemed  mere  vul- 
gar slang.  She  showed  but  scant  respect  for  age, 
and  none  for  sex,  trenching  upon  men's  province  in 
a  thousand  ways.  Young  as  she  was  and  inexperi- 
enced, she  would  have  argued  on  religion  with  a 
clergyman.  She  had  her  own  opinion  upon  every- 
thing, and  proclaimed  it  in  a  way  which  was  at  times 
annoying.  Though  it  was  clear,  from  what  she  told 


82  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

them  of  her  life  at  home,  that  she  had  made  no  spe- 
cial study  of  the  mission  field,  she  told  her  aunts 
exactly  where  they  failed  and  what  it  was  exactly 
that  they  ought  to  do;  surveying  all  life's  business 
from  the  general's  standpoint  which  her  aunts,  of 
humbler  mind,  had  never  dreamt  of  taking.  It  had 
not  been  thought  the  thing  for  women  in  their  day. 
Yet  with  all  this  she  was  a  charming  creature,  good 
to  look  upon,  affectionate  and  full  of  zeal  for  what 
was  right.  The  two  old  maids  were  fascinated  by 
her  brilliance.  Sophia  by  the  second  day  was  quite 
enthralled,  while  Jane,  more  conscious  of  the  spell, 
was  on  her  mettle  to  resist  it  till  such  time  as  rea- 
son should  endorse  a  full  approval. 

"We  must  go  about  a  little  more  now  she  is  here," 
observed  Miss  Sophy.  "Our  friends  will  ask  ,her, 
and  she  herself  will  wish  to  see  the  sights." 

"Yes,"  said  the  elder's  sister  with  a  frown.  "It 
is  upsetting." 

"We  shall  enjoy  it,  I  expect,"  replied  Miss  Sophy. 
"It  is  so  different  going  with  a  fresh  young  creature 
to  going  by  ourselves." 

Elsie  was  horrified  at  their  secluded  life. 

"It  can't  be  healthy,"  she  informed  them  on  the 
morning  of  the  prize-giving.  "And  how  can  you 
endure  it?  In  the  midst  of  such  excitements!  Je- 
imleh  tells  me  there  was  fighting  only  yesterday 
over  the  new  tramlines.  The  Mahometans  were  kill- 
ing Christian  workmen.  I  should  have  been  there 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  23 

and  tried  to  stop  it.  I  should  have  gone  and  told 
the  Pasha  what  I  thought  of  him." 

"My  dear,  we  are  not  rulers  of  this  country," 
said  Miss  Jane,  with  dry  amusement. 

"I  know,  but  there  is  such  a  lot  that  one  could 
do!  Don't  be  angry  with  me,  aunt,  I  do  so  want  to 
see  the  best.  The  missionaries  here  seem  to  have 
given  up  in  despair.  They  aren't  attacking  unbe- 
lief. Why,  here  are  you,  two  Christian  missionaries, 
employing  a  Mahometan — a  man  who  would  kill  you 
if  his  people  gave  the  order." 

"My  dear,  how  you  exaggerate !  If  what  you 
say  were  true,  I  would  sooner  be  killed  by  Abbas, 
who  is  our  friend,  than  by  some  stranger." 

"Well,  have  you  ever  made  the  slightest  effort  to 
convert  Abbas?" 

"No,"  said  Miss  Jane,  with  a  slight  rise  of  colour. 
"In  that  I  will  admit  we  may  be  wrong.  Abbas  is 
a  good  man.  His  simple  trust  in  God  would  put 
the  faith  of  many  Christians  to  the  blush.  He  is  not 
clever  enough  to  understand  the  subtleties  of  doc- 
trine. We  felt  unworthy" — here  Miss  Jane  assumed 
a  haughty  mien — "unworthy  to  approach  him  upon 
such  a  subject.  Do  not  believe  all  that  you  hear 
from  Christians  of  the  country.  They  are  very 
narrow.  We  have  met  with  truly  Christian  kindness 
from  Mahometans." 

"At  the  time  of  your  Aunt  Gertrude's  illness, 
when  we  were  quite  alone,"  supplied  Miss  Sophy 
for  the  niece's  full  enlightenment. 


24  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

"Oh,  aunts,  forgive  me!"  cried  the  girl  impul- 
sively. "But  how  about  original  sin?  And  surely 
you  would  wish  all  the  more  to  save  them  from  it, 
if  you  feel  like  that  about  them.  I  could  not  rest 
until  I  had  them  safe.  I  do  see  that  you  are  per- 
fect dears  and  saints  and  angels,  ever  so  much  bet- 
ter than  I  shall  ever  be.  But  is  it  right,  as  Chris- 
tians, pledged  to  witness  to  the  truth?  You  have 
got  this  Pasha  coming  here  to-day.  Won't  you  say 
a  word  to  him  about  his  persecution  of  the  Chris- 
tians?" 

"Certainly  not,  my  love." 

"Surely  you  cannot  receive  such  a  man — a  notori- 
ous persecutor — in  your  house  without  a  word  of 
protest?" 

"Again,  my  dear,  I  think  that  you  exaggerate,  or 
have  perhaps  been  misinformed  by  some  one.  As 
a  matter  of  fact,  we  do  intend  to  do  something — 
something  a  little  bold,  perhaps,  but  which  we  trust 
will  not  offend  him.  Remember,  he  is  the  gover- 
nor of  the  land  in  which  we  have  lived  peacefully 
for  thirty  years.  We  have  procured  from  the 
S.P.C.K.  a  copy  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  in  the  Turk- 
ish language.  This  we  shall  present  to  His  Excel- 
lency, for  a  memento  of  his  visit." 

Their  simple  goodness  was  too  much  for  Elsie. 
Further  argument  had  been  irreverence.  But  while 
she  went  about  the  house  that  morning,  deftly  ar- 
ranging flowers  and  foliage  from  the  courtyard  in 
pots  and  vases  in  the  little  chapel,  and  in  the  room 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  25 

made  ready  for  the  prize-giving,  moving  in  deep 
shadow  with  the  consciousness  of  blazing  sunlight 
out  of  doors,  she  could  not  think  with  them.  She 
had  her  vision  of  the  kind  of  work  that  should  be 
done  by  missionaries,  out  in  the  sunlight,  fighting 
hand  to  hand  with  evil,  not  shut  up  in  a  cool  and 
comfortable  home  aloof  from  strife. 


Ill 


Two  cawwases  of  the  British  Consulate,  resplend- 
ent in  their  uniform  of  sky-blue  silken  cloth  all  sil- 
ver braided,  with  monstrous  swords  and  huge  de- 
pendent tassels  to  their  skull-cap  fezzes,  standing 
outside  the  gateway  of  the  house,  informed  the  pass- 
er-by that  some  festivity  was  taking  place  there. 
At  going  in,  the  first  thing  which  assailed  the  eye 
was  the  red  Turkish  flag  with  white  crescent  and 
star  hanging  from  a  cord  which  had  been  stretched 
across  the  little  court,  beside  it  a  much  smaller  Union 
Jack.  Abbas  had  borrowed  the  large  flag  upon  his 
own  account,  deeming  it  necessary  for  a  fit  recep- 
tion of  the  Sultan's  viceroy.  The  missionaries  shud- 
dered as  they  passed  beneath  it. 

The  company  which  gathered  in  a  small  room  off 
the  court — the  school-room,  being  decorated  for  the 
prize-giving,  was  reserved  for  a  surprise  effect — 
conversed  in  apprehensive  fashion  until  four  o'clock, 
when  Abbas  ran  across  the  court  to  say:  "His 
Highness  comes !"  On  that  announcement  the  Eng- 
lish Consul  led  Miss  Berenger  to  the  door  of  the 
room,  bidding  her  wait  there  while  he  himself  went 
out  to  meet  the  Governor.  Elsie  Wilding  placed  her- 
self where  she  could  see  across  the  courtyard  to  the 

26 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  87 

gateway.  She  caught  a  glimpse  of  soldiers  in  the 
street  and  heard  the  jangle  of  accoutrements,  the 
prance  of  horses.  The  two  cawwases  strode  into 
the  court  with  dignified  slow  march.  They  ranged 
themselves  on  either  side  of  the  inner  archway  and 
saluted,  while  a  white-bearded  man,  immaculately 
clad  in  European  fashion,  passed  between  them  and 
was  welcomed  by  the  Consul.  Elsie  was  disap- 
pointed. She  had  expected  something  picturesque 
and  barbarous,  more  evidently  wicked  than  this  neat 
old  gentleman,  who,  but  for  his  fez,  might  easily 
have  been  mistaken  for  a  French  diplomatist. 

At  tidings  of  the  Governor's  approach  one  or  two 
native  Christians  who  were  in  the  room  hurriedly 
resumed  the  headdress  which  they  had  discarded 
among  Europeans.  They  stood  at  attention  with 
an  air  of  reverence.  The  Consul,  at  Miss  Jane's  re- 
quest, performed  the  necessary  introductions ;  and 
when  it  came  to  Elsie's  turn  she  was  annoyed  to 
find  herself  no  whit  less  awkward  than  her  prede- 
cessors in  the  ceremony. 

The  Pasha's  dignified  kind  looks  attracted,  while 
his  evil  reputation  much  repelled  her.  Saluting^n 
the  graceful  Eastern  manner,  he  talked  to  her  in 
French,  inquiring  how  she  liked  the  country;  and 
she  replied  at  random,  thinking  about  his  persecu- 
tion of  the  Christians. 

Her  aunt  Jane  interrupted,  saying  shyly,  "Excel- 
lency, we  are  going  to  the  chapel  where  the  girls 
are  all  assembled.  Is  it  your  pleasure  to  accom- 


28  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

pany  us  or  would  you  prefer  to  await  our  return 
and  take  refreshment?" 

"I  come  with  you,  mademoiselle,  and  with  the 
greatest  pleasure,"  was  the  answer.  "Pass  in  front, 
I  beg  of  you,  with  all  these  ladies.  I  follow  with 
our  friend  the  Consul  and  the  other  gentlemen." 

From  where  she  sat  in  the  large  vaulted  room 
which  served  as  chapel  Elsie  watched  the  Wali's 
face  throughout  the  service.  It  was  attentive  and 
devout  beneath  the  scarlet  fez.  He  did  what  he  saw 
others  doing  and  appeared  to  like  the  hymns. 

During  the  short  address  delivered  by  a  Scot- 
tish minister  he  leaned  towards  the  Consul  to  ob- 
tain the  gist  of  what  was  said,  and  once  or  twice 
he  gave  a  nod  of  grave  approval.  There  came  an- 
other hymn,  a  final  prayer  and  then  the  visitors  de- 
parted to  the  reception-room;  whither  they  were 
followed  shortly  by  the  children  shepherded  by  the 
Sitt  Afifeh  and  Jemileh.  The  pupils  took  their 
places  upon  three  rows  of  forms.  Elsie,  sitting  with 
the  grown-ups  near  a  table  at  the  other  end  of  the 
big  room,  heard  Hasan  Pasha  saying  to  her  aunts — 

"I  have  been  deeply  interested.  It  was  so  sim- 
ple, so  touching.  In  your  service  it  is  like  with 
us ;  there  are  no  idols ;  prayer  goes  straight  to  God. 
I  remember  being  told  as  a  child  that  the  English 
were  good  Mussulmans  without  knowing  it.  That 
is  an  overstatement,  doubtless ;  but  the  fact  remains 
that  you  are  near  to  us  in  this  and  other  things." 
She  did  not  catch  Miss  Jane's  reply,  for  the  Con- 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  29 

sul  began  talking  to  her  in  a  flippant  strain.  There 
was  a  buzz  of  general  conversation,  then  a  call  of 
"Hush!" 

Miss  Jane  stood  up  and  made  a  hesitating,  not 
ungraceful  little  speech,  referring  to  the  honour  of 
the  Wali's  presence.  Before  asking  Tlim  to  give  the 
prizes,  which  were  heaped  before  her  on  the  table, 
she  put  a  few  show  questions  to  the  pupils.  Miss 
Sophy  followed  with  some  questions  on  the  Eng- 
lish language,  her  especial  province.  The  answers 
won  applause.  Elsie's  cheeks  burned.  She  was  sure 
that  the  Wali  with  his  calm  grey  eyes  saw  clearly 
the  futility  of  this  performance.  Of  what  use  could 
it  be  to  Eastern  girls  to  spell  correctly  words  like 
"apophthegm"  and  "hyperbole,"  or  to  know  the 
names  of  English  counties  and  their  capitals  ?  What 
was  the  Christian  value  of  such  knowledge?  The 
Wali  would  despise  all  Christian  missionaries  and 
tolerate  their  efforts  as  quite  harmless.  Elsie 
wanted  to  impress  him  with  the  fire  and  spirit,  and 
also  with  the  intellectual  power  of  Christianity. 
Uneasy  on  her  straight-backed  chair,  she  watched 
him  closely.  It  was  the  first  time  in  her  life  that 
she  had  met  a  man  who,  while  at  all  points  what  is 
called  a  gentleman,  was  not  a  Christian.  His  de- 
meanour shattered  all  her  preconceived  ideas  about 
the  influence  of  faith  upon  behaviour. 

The  prizes  were  all  given.  There  ensued  a  pause; 
and  then  she  heard  her  Aunt  Jane  saying — 


30  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

"Children,  his  Excellency  has  graciously  ex- 
pressed his  wish  to  speak  to  you." 

The  Wall  then  stood  up  and  spoke  in  French, 
Miss  Sophy  acting  as  interpreter,  until  it  came  to 
praises  of  herself,  when  she  retired  in  favour  of  the 
British  Consul.  He  said  that  he  was  a  great  ad- 
vocate of  instruction  for  girls,  and  prayed  God  for 
a  day  to  come  when  every  girl-child  in  the  Empire 
would  enjoy  such  opportunities  of  learning  as  were 
given  to  those  present  by  the  kindness  of  two  noble 
English  ladies.  But  there  was  something  which 
was  more  than  mere  instruction;  he  referred  to  edu- 
cation, the  formation  of  a  solid  character,  by  which 
a  man  or  woman  was  secured  in  after-life  against 
temptations  which  mere  learning  could  not  help  them 
to  withstand.  It  was  this  which  he  found  admirable 
in  the  English  system:  that  booklore  was  subordi- 
nated to  the  inculcation  of  good  principles.  He 
concluded  his  remarks  with  a  personal  compliment 
to  the  Misses  Berenger,  whom  he  thanked  in  the 
name  of  the  Imperial  government  for  their  civiliz- 
ing work. 

"Copy  these  excellent  ladies,  my  dear  children, 
and  please  God  you  will  become  like  them,  a  blessing 
to  the  world." 

The  assembly  then  unbent.  The  children  filed  out 
to  their  tea.  Refreshments  were  brought  in  and 
handed  round.  The  Wali  came  to  Elsie  with  a  bow. 
"Dear  mademoiselle,"  he  said,  "I  have  a  daughter 
of  about  your  age  and  something  like  you  in  appear- 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  31 

ancc.  Will  you  honour  me  by  paying  her  a  visit? 
She  speaks  English  well,  and  she  is  lonely  in  this 
city  so  far  from  Constantinople,  where  her  friends 
all  dwell." 

"With  pleasure,"  she  replied,  and  he  passed  on. 
Miss  Jane  went  round  with  him,  translating  his 
polite  remarks  to  everybody.  It  irritated  the  young 
girl  to  note  the  awkward  bearing  of  the  mission- 
aries, their  forced  smiles  when  under  the  old  gen- 
tleman's immediate  notice,  and  the  puzzled  scowl 
with  which  they  honoured  his  retreating  form. 
None  of  them,  men  or  women,  seemed  to  know 
whether  to  rise  or  remain  seated  when  he  spoke  to 
them. 

The  Consul  came  and  murmured  in  her  ear: 
"Miss  Wilding,  what  do  you  think  the  Pasha  has 
been  saying?  That  the  most  abominable  waste  of 
good  material  that  he  has  seen  in  all  his  life  is  two 
such  charming  ladies  as  your  aunts  old  maids.  I 
hope  he  won't  tell  them  so  to  their  faces.  He  is 
capable." 

Elsie  gave  a  laugh  of  politeness.  She  resented 
very  bitterly  the  Pasha's  triumph,  the  way  in  which 
he  (the  Mahometan)  shone  out  amid  this  gather- 
ing of  earnest  Christians.  Then  she  saw  that  he 
was  on  the  point  of  going.  He  came  straight  to  her. 
"It  is  agreed,  is  it  not,  mademoiselle?  You  will 
come  to  see  my  daughter.  She  will  be  enchanted." 
He  passed  on  to  the  door,  where  her  aunts  waited. 
Miss  Jane  had  a  small  parcel  in  her  hand. 


32  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

"Excellency,"  she  exclaimed,  with  nervous  empha- 
sis, "I  ask  you  to  accept  this  souvenir  of  your  kind 
visit.  It  is  our  holy  book,  the  Bible,  in  the  Turk- 
ish language." 

Elsie  sprang  erect  and  her  eyes  brightened.  At 
last  the  proper  note  was  struck  of  Christian  war- 
fare. The  missionary  crowd  were  staring  awe- 
struck, as  if  they  thought  the  old  man  would  fall 
dead,  or  be  consumed  by  fire.  He  took  the  gift  with 
reverence  and  actually  kissed  the  hand  that  gave  it. 

"You  overwhelm  me,  my  dear  mademoiselle,  with 
all  your  goodness.  The  book  is  holy  for  us  also. 
I  shall  always  keep  it." 

He  was  gone.  The  two  cawwases  opened  the 
great  door.  A  bugle  sounded  in  the  street  without, 
and  there  was  once  more  heard  the  prance  of  horses 
as  the  carriage  and  its  escort  whirled  away. 

Then  tongues  were  loosed  among  the  crowd  as 
people  settled  down  to  make  a  comfortable  vulgar 
tea,  relieved  of  the  disturbing  presence  of  the  un- 
believer. 

"The  old  wolf!"  said  a  malignant  voice  in  Elsie's 
ear.  "With  all  that  blood  of  Christians  on  his 
hands  to  dare  to  come  into  this  house  and  talk  as 
he  did.  The  old  hypocrite!  I  hated  anything  so 
wicked  to  come  near  me." 

The  speaker  was  a  Scottish  missionary's  wife,  a 
red- faced  woman  with  cold  eyes  and  teeth  like  tusks. 
Elsie  had  met  her  several  times  before,  but  had  not 
seen  how  horrible  she  was  until  this  minute. 


IV 


ON  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day,  as  Elsie  was 
sitting  in  her  bedroom  with  Jemileh,  Abbas,  all 
smiles,  came  up  to  say  that  Hasan  Pasha's  carriage 
was  in  waiting,  at  the  same  time  handing  her  a  note, 
which  she  tore  open  irritably.  It  was  in  English, 
written  in  a  childish  hand  and  signed  "Emineh."  It 
entreated  her  to  have  compassion  on  a  lonely  ex- 
ile who  already  loved  her.  She  judged  that  there 
was  nothing  for  it  but  to  go.  Jemileh,  helping  her 
to  dress,  was  almost  tearful.  She  was  already  jeal- 
ous of  the  Wall's  daughter,  hearing  that  the  latter 
could  speak  English  and  had  been  well  educated. 
Having  never  in  her  life  approached  a  Muslim  lady, 
she  could  form  no  mental  image  of  her  rival,  except 
that  she  was  proud  and  bred  in  luxiyy. 

"The  ladies  didn't  ought  to  let  you  go,"  she 
moaned.  "They're  fery  wicked,  all  those  Muslim 
girls.  They're  taught  to  do  bad  things  from  time 
they're  four  or  fife  years  old.  They're  taught  to 
curse  the  Christians  and  to  hate  them.  I've  heard 
my  mother  tell  how  Muslim  women  haf  stolen  Chris- 
tian children  and  made  them  curse  the  Lord  Jesus ; 
then  they  laugh.  They  catch  the  Christian  men 
sometimes  and  kill  them  fery  cruel  in  the  harems. 

33 


34  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

They're  worse  than  what  the  men  are — more  fanat- 
ical." 

"I  don't  believe  all  that,  you  know!"  said  Elsie, 
laughing. 

"You  don't  know,  Miss  Elsie!  This  lady,  she'll 
be  fery  sweet  to  you.  You'll  think  she  lufs  you  fery 
much.  And  all  the  while  she's  wishin'  for  to  kill 
you.  She  is  bad,  bad,  bad!" 

With  that  word  ringing  in  her  ears,  Miss  Wild- 
ing went  out  to  the  Wali's  carriage.  A  fezzed, 
frockcoated  servant  shut  her  in  and  then  sprang 
up  on  to  the  box  beside  the  driver. 

She  was  driven  through  the  city  at  great  speed, 
amid  much  frightened  shouting  from  the  crowd  of 
wayfarers.  At  length  the  din  was  left  behind,  the 
wheels  rolled  noiseless  on  a  sandy  road.  The  car- 
riage turned  in  at  a  gateway  in  a  hedge  of  prickly 
pear,  passed  up  a  fairly  well-kept  drive  beneath  aca- 
cia trees,  and  drew  up  to  the  steps  of  a  large  coun- 
try-house. The  servant  jumped  down  from  the  box 
and  helped  her  to  alight.  Another,  who  had  been 
sitting  on  a  chair  beneath  the  portico,  rose  and 
came  to  meet  her  slowly,  being  very  fat.  Both  kept 
smiling  and  saluting  every  time  they  met  her  gaze. 
They  ushered  her  into  a  cool  and  spacious  hall, 
where  the  Wali  himself  welcomed  her,  exclaiming — 

"It  is  good  of  you  to  come!  My  daughter  is  a 
tyrant.  She  commanded  me  to  send  the  carriage 
and  her  note  to  you  at  once,  although  I  warned 
her  that  it  might  be  putting  you  to  inconvenience. 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  35 

Do  you  desire  to  rest  a  little  after  the  drive?  .  .  . 
Xo?  Then  I  will  take  you  to  my  daughter.  She 
is  in  the  garden." 

He  led  her  to  a  door  in  a  great  screen  of  lattice- 
work, which  a  black  servant  opened  to  them  with 
the  smile  and  the  salute  which  all  these  people  gave 
so  readily,  and  through  it  to  a  second  hall  more 
comfortably  furnished;  down  a  passage,  through 
another  door  and  out  on  to  a  rather  weedy  terrace, 
with  a  fine  stone  balustrade  disfigured  by  a  row  of 
kerosene  tins  in  which  plants  were  growing.  A 
ragged  gardener  squatting  on  the  ground  was  ex- 
amining one  of  the  plants,  which  he  had  taken  down, 
minutely,  as  if  the  work  required  a  microscope.  He 
looked  as  if  he  had  been  doing  the  same  work  for 
hours,  and  would  have  gone  on  doing  it  till  night 
but  for  the  appearance  of  his  master;  at  sight  of 
whom  he  sprang  up  and  saluted  with  the  usual  smile. 
Hasan  Pasha  opened  a  white  sun-shade  and  held  it 
over  Elsie's  head.  They  went  down  steps  into  a 
patch  of  tended  garden,  beyond  which  spread  a  wild 
one — much  more  lovely — a  tangle  of  pink  roses  lead- 
ing to  a  grove  of  walnut  trees.  A  noise  of  running 
water  grew  as  they  advanced.  Beneath  the  walnut 
trees,  on  the  brink  of  a  wide  stream  as  restless  as  a 
mountain  torrent,  stood  a  small  kiosk  of  stone  built 
like  a  Greek  temple,  open  between  the  columns  on 
three  sides.  From  this  emerged  a  figure  draped  in 
white  from  head  to  foot.  "There  is  my  daughter. 
I  now  leave  you,  if  you  will  permit  it,  mademoiselle. 


36  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

I  have  so  much  to  do."  The  Pasha  then  turned  back 
towards  the  house. 

Elsie  continued  to  advance,  feeling  ungainly  and 
constrained  in  her  tight-fitting  clothes  in  presence 
of  the  girl  in  flowing  draperies.  The  girl's  eyes 
were  intent  upon  her  face.  They  were  blue  eyes 
and  their  colour  was  enhanced  by  kohl.  Her  cheeks, 
too,  had  a  touch  of  rouge,  as  Elsie  saw  with  horror. 
But  she  had  no  time  to  formulate  her  disapproval 
before  Emineh  Khanum  flung  her  arms  around  her 
neck  and  kissed  her.  Elsie  was  enveloped  in  a  sweet 
peculiar  perfume  which,  though  repugnant,  like  the 
rouge  and  kohl,  to  her  English  feelings,  had  a 
strange  attraction.  The  fervour  of  the  greeting 
took  her  breath  away.  The  Turkish  girl  then 
grasped  her  hand  and  led  her  to  the  pleasure-house. 
Three  other  maidens  were  there  waiting  to  be  in- 
troduced. They  were  clothed  exactly  like  Emineh 
Khanum  and  appeared  her  equals.  Elsie  was 
shocked  to  hear  that  they  were  slaves. 

"I  am  so  happy,"  sighed  the  hostess,  when  they 
were  all  seated  upon  piles  of  cushions,  on  which  Elsie 
sat  unbending  but  the  rest  reclined.  The  hubbub 
of  first  greeting  had  subsided.  One  of  the  slave- 
girls  was  preparing  coffee  on  a  brazier,  while  a  tray 
of  sweets  and  salted  nuts  was  set  upon  the  floor  in 
reach  of  everybody's  stretched-out  hand.  "At  home 
I  have  so  many  friends,  here  none  except  these  girls 
of  our  own  house.  When  my  father  spoke  of  you, 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  37 

at  once  I  loved  you.  Do  you  know  that  you  are 
even  sweeter  than  I  had  expected?" 

Again  she  flung  her  arms  round  Elsie's  neck,  much 
to  the  visitor's  embarrassment.  One  of  the  slaves, 
a  handsome  creature,  who  remained  aloof,  appeared 
to  Elsie's  nervous  apprehension  to  be  sneering.  This 
girl,  upon  a  word  in  Turkish  from  her  mistress,  who 
might  have  been  her  sister  from  the  tone  employed, 
picked  up  a  lute  which  lay  beside  her  on  the  ground, 
and  after  strumming  on  it  for  a  time,  began  to  wail 
forth  a  strange  song.  To  Elsie's  ear  it  was  discord- 
ant and  yet  fascinating,  a  part  of  the  uncanny 
charm  these  girls  exhaled.  The  reflection  that  for 
the  first  time  in  her  life  she  was  alone  with  unre- 
generate  mortals  caused  a  sinking  of  the  heart. 

"Perhaps  you  do  not  love  that  music?"  said  Emi- 
neh,  watchful  of  her  face,  when  the  song  ceased.  "I 
do  so  wish  you  to  be  happy  with  us.  If  there  is 
anything  that  you  would  wish,  please  tell  me.  We 
are  all  your  servants.  Perhaps  you  wish  to  go  into 
the  house?  I  sit  out  here  because  it  is  so  cool,  and 
the  river  talks  so  sweetly  and  I  love  the  roses.  We 
Turks  are  glad  of  things  like  that.  But  Europeans 
call  it  wasting  time.  Do  you  love  reading  books? 
Ah,  so  do  I !  Will  you  please  tell  me  names  of  Eng- 
lish books — not  those  which  are  of  drinking  tea 
and  Christian  meetings,  but  books  of  thoughtful- 
ness  and  life.  Of  course  you  have  read  Gibbon's 
History?  I  like  it  much;  it  is  so  true  and  just. 
You  have  not  read  it?  That  surprises  me.  My 


38  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

father  has  a  French  translation  which  is  very  good, 
but  certainly  it  must  be  better  in  the  English.  You 
are  not  fanatical,  are  you?  No;  you  are  too  well- 
educated  and  enlightened !" 

"I  am  a  Christian,"  returned  Elsie  bravely,  with 
a  nervous  smile. 

"Of  course;  and  so  am  I  a  Mahometan.  But  we 
do  not  hate  and  wish  to  kill  each  other  like  the  ig- 
norant poor  people.  The  Christians  in  our  coun- 
try are  fanatical,  except  a  very  few  who  have  been 
better  educated.  My  very  greatest  friend  is  an  Or- 
thodox Greek  girl.  She  used  to  share  the  lessons  of 
my  English  governess.  And  her  father  was  my 
father's  friend.  He  was  a  great  philosopher." 

"I  am  afraid  I  don't  know  much  about  the  ques- 
tion," Elsie  answered,  "but  I  think  the  native  Chris- 
tians have  some  cause  to  be  fanatical,  they  have  been 
oppressed  so  long  by  the  Mahometans." 

"Oh,  but  that  is  such  a  great  mistake !"  cried 
out  Emineh  eagerly.  "They  have  always  had  pro- 
tection, have  always  been  permitted  to  perform  their 
own  religion.  They  were  not  oppressed  any  more 
than  were  the  poor  Mahometans  till  they  began  to 
wish  to  ruin  the  whole  country.  They  would  kill  us 
all  if  they  could  have  their  wish,  and,  what  is  worse, 
would  persecute  Islam.  Ask  my  father:  he  will  tell 
you  all  about  it.  He  has  been  much  blamed  for  his 
severity  towards  some  Christians.  He  has  been  shot 
at  many  times.  His  friends,  his  servants  have  been 
killed.  But  he  is  not  fanatical.  He  is  just  and  wise. 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  39 

But  let  us  not  talk  more  of  politics.  I  love  you,  and 
I  wish  you  also  to  love  me,  to  be  my  friend  for  al- 
ways, will  you?" 

Elsie  acquiesced  politely,  though  in  conscience 
she  perceived  no  path  of  friendship  which  she  and 
a  Mahometan  could  tread  together  till  life's  end. 
Emineh,  whose  eyes  never  left  her  face,  noticing  the 
shade  of  sadness,  asked — 

"Are  you  fatigued?  Say!  Would  you  wish  to 
rest?  I  will  take  you  to  a  bedroom  if  you  wish. 
Or  would  you  like  that  girl  to  sing  again?  I  wish 
to  do  exactly  as  you  like." 

The  afternoon  wore  on  with  song  and  conversa- 
tion. It  grew  cooler.  The  sunlight  had  acquired 
a  rosy  tinge;  the  shadows  lengthened,  turning  in- 
digo. A  slave-girl,  not  the  singer,  told  a  story  of 
two  lovers,  which  Emineh  rendered  into  halting 
English.  It  was  full  of  bloodshed  and  unbridled 
lust.  Coffee  and  another  tray  full  of  refreshments 
came.  Soon  after,  as  the  sun  was  setting,  Elsie  rose 
to  go. 

"Oh,  but  you  must  not !  Oh,  no,  no !  Please 
don't!"  exclaimed  Emineh,  looking  ready  to  cry.  "I 
cannot  let  you  go  away  so  soon.  I  thought  that  you 
would  stay  with  me  for  several  days.  At  least  one 
night !" 

The  slave-girls  too  expressed  amazement  at  her 
talk  of  going. 

"But  you  will  come  again?  Swear  by  Almighty 
God  that  you  will  come  again !" 


40  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

"I  certainly  shall  hope  to  do  so,"  replied  Elsie 
shyly. 

"Swear  it!" 

"I  do  not  swear,"  said  Elsie,  "but  I  promise." 

"Is  it  not  the  same  thing,  then,  in  English?  You 
are  funny!" 

The  girls  walked  up  towards  the  house  with  Elsie, 
Emineh  keeping  hold  of  her  right  hand.  To  pass 
the  time  until  the  carriage  should  be  ready,  the 
hostess  showed  the  visitor  her  English  books.  In 
the  midst  of  the  display  the  Pasha  joined  them. 

"Well,  mademoiselle,  I  hope  you  are  not  tired  to 
death  by  our  dull  ways?" 

"On  the  contrary,"  said  Elsie,  "I  have  spent 
a  very  interesting  afternoon.  Mademoiselle  your 
daughter  has  been  charming  to  me." 

"And  yet  she  goes  away!"  exclaimed  Emineh  in 
good  French.  She  clung,  complaining,  to  her  father 
as  a  spoilt  child  might.  "I  expected  her  to  stay 
with  me  at  least  two  days.  I  fear  she  is  a  little  bit 
fanatical.  She  thinks  the  Christians  arc  oppressed 
continually,"  Emineh  pouted,  looking  round  at 
Elsie. 

"We  hear  of  massacres,"  observed  the  latter, 
trembling  a  little  at  her  own  effrontery. 

"That  is  true,"  replied  the  Pasha  gently.  "It  is 
sad,  and  must  seem  horrible  to  those  who  dwell  at 
peace,  like  you  in  England.  If  we  thought  like  you 
we  should  go  mad,  for  all  our  lives  the  sword  is 
drawn  against  us;  all  the  peace  that  we  enjoy  is  in 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  41 

the  intervals  of  bloody  war  which  knows  no  quar- 
ter. We  try  to  mete  out  justice,  but  it  is  not  un- 
derstood. Revenge  is  the  one  cry  of  all  the  tribes 
and  factions.  We  love  our  land  and  our  religion, 
and  when  either  is  assailed  we  kill.  If  I  knew  that 
my  own  daughter  were  a  traitor — which  God  forbid 
— I  would  kill  her  with  my  own  hand." 

"And  I  would  kill  my  father  and  myself  if  such 
dishonour  were  to  come  upon  our  house  through 
him !"  exclaimed  Emineh  proudly,  taking  her  father's 
hand  and  kissing  it.  "It  is  not  like  in  England. 
We  do  not  pass  our  lives  in  tea  and  tennis.  We  are 
attacked  on  all  sides.  We  all  know  that  to-morrow 
we  may  die  most  horribly." 

"There  is  truth  in  what  my  daughter  says — too 
vehemently,  as  she  utters  all  things,"  said  the  Pasha, 
smiling.  "The  massacres  have  never  been  on  one 
side  only.  Try  to  think  kindly  of  us,  mademoiselle. 
We  are  a  tragic  people." 

The  carriage  was  announced  as  ready.  He  led 
Elsie  out.  A  manservant,  standing  by  the  carriage 
door,  was  holding  a  bouquet  of  roses,  made  up 
tightly  like  a  cauliflower.  This  the  Pasha  took 
from  him  and  gave  to  Elsie  through  the  carriage 
window. 

She  was  thankful  to  escape  from  that  unChristian 
atmosphere. 


JEMILEH  was  no  schemer.  She  saw  a  radiant  vi- 
sion of  the  future  and  ran  towards  it  with  a  child's 
directness,  becoming  cunning  only  when  she  met  an 
obstacle.  Her  first  perception  of  the  beauty  of  a 
life  as  Elsie's  mentor  had  been  bright  enough  to 
make  her  think  it  half  fulfilled.  But  afterwards, 
as  days  and  weeks  went  by,  she  lost  sight  altogether 
of  the  end  itself  in  thought  of  the  first  step  towards 
its  attainment ;  which  was  to  give  her  loved  one  the 
desire  for  village  life.  Miss  Wilding  was  quite 
happy  in  the  city.  The  missionaries  asked  her  out 
to  tea  and  tennis,  and  got  up  various  picnics  to 
amuse  her.  Jemileh  waited  for  a  change  of  mood, 
contented  with  her  post  of  humble  confidant.  She 
explained  to  Elsie  things  which  puzzled  her,  told  her 
stories  of  the  country,  taught  her  words  of  Arabic, 
trying  to  make  her  service  indispensable. 

The  change  for  which  she  waited  came  by  slow 
degrees,  betrayed  in  frequent  yawns,  a  certain  list- 
lessness,  and  some  reflexions  on  the  dulness  of  the 
small  society.  Jemileh's  heart  beat  faster,  but  she 
said  no  word.  At  length  one  afternoon,  when  every 
one  was  resting,  she  was  in  Elsie's  room,  as  often 
happened,  paying  court  to  her,  when  all  at  once  the 
fair  girl  heaved  a  mighty  sigh — 

42 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  43 

"I  feel  so  lazy  and  so  useless,  so  imprisoned. 
What  I  want  is  to  be  doing  something.  All  this 
country  is  so  fascinating,  and  there  is  so  much  to 
do;  yet  the  missionaries  lead  the  kind  of  lives  which 
they  would  lead  at  home.  I  should  like  to  go  about 
among  the  people,  to  learn  to  know  their  minds  and 
really  help  them.  Why,  I've  only  used  my  saddle 
twice  since  I've  been  here!  I  thought  I  should  get 
lots  of  riding." 

Jemileh  paused  a  moment  as  in  deep  reflection, 
then  made  answer  softly — 

"It's  fery  easy  to  do  all  you  wish,  dear  miss. 
You're  rich,  and  free  to  go  the  way  you  like.  You 
take  me  with  you,  I'll  make  all  things  smooth. 
What  you  want  is  a  nice  house,  your  own,  in  some 
nice  Christian  fillage.  In  my  own  fillage  I  could 
find  a  good  one.  You  make  that  your  home.  Then, 
besides,  you  haf  two  tents,  you  go  about  the  country 
when  you  blease.  You  haf  your  horses  and  your 
serfants." 

"I  don't  think  I  should  choose  a  Christian  village. 
I  want  to  work  among  Mahometans,"  said  Elsie 
dreamily. 

"You  can't  lif  in  a  Muslim  fillage,  dear  Miss 
Elsie.  God  knows  I  think  like  you  do.  I  wish  to 
helb  and  succour  those  boor  wicked  beeble.  If  you 
lif  in  my  fillage  you  haf  friends  around  you,  who 
helb  you  and  adfise  in  what  you  do.  The  Muslim 
fillage  is  a  half-hour  distant,  riding.  You  go  there 
and  confert  the  beeble  when  you  wish.  I  hobe  you'll 


44  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

go  and  see  the  blace  some  day.  My  father  and  my 
mother — all  the  fillage — would  be  fery  glad." 

"I  will,"  said  Elsie  in  a  tone  of  interest.  "I  did 
not  know  there  were  Mahometans  so  near.  But  what 
I  really  do  want  is  a  horse  to  ride." 

"That's  fery  easy,"  said  Jemileh,  laughing  hap- 
pily; "you  leaf  all  that  to  me.  I  haf  a  relation  of 
my  own  who  knows  of  all  the  horses.  I'll  tell  him 
to  come  ofer  here  and  see  you.  He'll  soon  find  you 
one,  and  he'll  look  after  it.  He'll  lif  at  the  khan 
with  the  horse." 

"That's  not  a  bad  idea.  I'll  think  it  over,"  mur- 
mured Elsie. 

The  dark  girl  took  that  answer  as  a  full  consent. 
Enraptured  with  her  progress,  upon  leaving  Elsie 
she  hurried  to  Abbas  the  doorkeeper,  and  arranged 
with  him  for  a  message  to  be  sent  at  once  by  one 
of  the  returning  market-people  to  her  brother  Faris, 
adjuring  him  to  come  at  once  to  rare  good  fortune. 
So  urgent  and  alluring  was  the  message  that  Faris 
himself  appeared  at  nine  o'clock  that  evening,  dusty 
and  perspiring,  having  run  most  of  the  distance 
from  his  village  in  the  mountains.  His  arrival  was 
announced  to  the  Misses  Berenger  as  they  got  up 
from  supper,  which  meal  the  Sitt  Afifeh  always  took 
with  them,  Jemileh  and  another  damsel  waiting. 

"A  man  from  Deyr  Amun!  Why,  that  is  miles 
away!  What  can  he  want  at  this  hour  of  the 
night?"  exclaimed  Miss  Jane.  "Afifeh,  will  you 
kindly  go  and  question  him?" 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  45 

Jemileh's  cheeks  burned  and  a  pulse  beat  in  her 
brain.  The  Sitt  Afifeh  presently  returned  and,  with 
a  spiteful  glance  at  her,  informed  the  ladies — 

"He  says  Jemileh  ordered  him  to  come." 

Jemileh,  almost  weeping  in  confusion,  looked  at 
Elsie.  "I  think,"  she  faltered,  "it  must  be  the  man 
of  whom  I  sboke — you  know,  Miss  Elsie — for  the 
horse  you  wish  to  buy.  I  did  not  think  he  would 
haf  come  so  quickly.  He  is  my  relation." 

"He  is  her  brother,"  cried  the  Sitt  Afifeh  in  a 
tone  of  biting  scorn.  She,  too,  had  male  relations 
to  provide  for,  and  she  held  that  her  position  in 
that  house  made  hers  the  first  refusal  of  its  pat- 
ronage. 

"He  knows  of  horses,"  faltered  poor  Jemileh. 

"But  Elsie  does  not  want  to  buy  a  horse!"  ex- 
claimed Miss  Jane. 

"Oh,  yes,  I  do,  aunt,"  said  the  fair  girl,  and  Je- 
mileh lived  again.  "I'll  go  and  see  him,  if  you'll  ex- 
cuse me  for  a  minute.  Jemileh,  come  and  be  inter- 
preter." 

Jemileh  could  have  fallen  on  the  floor  and  kissed 
the  loved  one's  feet.  Together  they  went  out  into 
the  court,  where  Faris  waited — a  swarthy,  rather 
sullen-looking  youth,  ragged  and  travel-stained.  At 
sight  of  Elsie's  fairness  he  sprang  up  and  stood  be- 
fore her,  with  his  eyes  and  mouth  wide  open,  in  a 
perfect  trance  of  admiration  near  dismay.  Jemileh 
was  obliged  to  answer  questions  for  him.  Elsie, 
thinking  he  looked  honest,  there  and  then  engaged 


46  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

him.  At  Jemileh's  suggestion  she  gave  him  a  silver 
piece  by  way  of  earnest  money,  and  thereupon  went 
back  to  join  her  aunts.  Jemileh  stayed  behind  a 
moment  to  embrace  her  brother,  crying:  "Now  art 
thou  blest  indeed !" 

"But  what  am  I  to  do?  I  know  no  horse!"  he 
murmured,  staring  at  the  money  in  his  open  palm. 

"Inquire  among  the  dealers!  Make  them  bring 
their  horses  hither !  Let  her  choose !  Come  each 
day  to  this  house  to  take  her  orders.  When  the 
horse  is  bought,  thou  wilt  take  care  of  it,  and  also 
of  the  saddle  and  the  bridle." 

"But  how  does  one  take  care  of  horses?  Allah 
help  me!  I  never  owned  a  horse  in  all  my  life,  as 
well  thou  knowest !" 

"That  is  easy;  I  will  show  thee,"  said  Abbas  the 
doorkeeper,  benevolent  spectator  o.f  this  little  scene. 

"It  is  easy,  as  our  uncle  says.  Fear  nothing!" 
said  Jemileh.  "Thou  hast  now  a  high  position, 
praise  to  Allah!" 

With  that  she  ran  back  to  the  dining-room  to 
clear  the  table.  Her  troubles  were  not  over  yet  by 
any  means.  That  the  two  old  ladies  and  the  Sitt 
Afifeh  disapproved  of  her  behaviour  she  felt  sure, 
and  the  three  together  were  the  greatest  power  she 
knew. 

After  supper  every  evening,  when  the  ladies  went 
into  the  drawing-room,  Jemileh  was  allowed  to  bring 
her  needlework  and  sit  with  them  till  bed-time.  It 
was  then  that  she  expected  to  be  scolded,  but  to  her 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  47 

surprise  there  was  no  mention  of  her  brother's  com- 
ing. The  silence  on  the  subject  scared  her.  She 
fancied  real  hostility  in  the  demeanour  of  the  Misses 
Berenger.  And  when,  after  prayers  had  been  said, 
Miss  Jane  kept  Elsie  back,  remarking  that  she 
wished  to  speak  with  her,  Jemileh  ran  up  to  her 
bedroom  choked  by  grief  and  rage.  She  knew  quite 
well  what  the  old  hag  was  telling  Elsie;  how  she 
must  distrust  the  natives  of  the  country,  who  were 
sly,  intriguing,  grasping,  incapable  of  true  affec- 
tion, for  ever  seeking  their  own  private  gain.  Je- 
mileh at  that  moment  hated  the  Misses  Berenger 
and  all  the  Franks,  and  all  the  Protestants,  with 
deadly  hatred.  Might  God  consume  them!  They 
were  destitute  of  understanding!  She  cursed  the 
very  love  she  bore  to  Elsie,  esteeming  it  a  great  mis- 
fortune. She  was  lying  on  the  floor,  face  downward, 
biting  the  reed  mat  to  prevent  her  moans  from  be- 
ing audible,  when  there  came  a  soft  knock  at  the 
door  and  some  one  entered. 

"Jemileh,  dear!  Whatever  is  the  matter?"  It 
was  Elsie's  voice.  Jemileh's  sobs  burst  forth. 

"I  luf  you !"  she  exclaimed.  "I  luf  you !  And 
they  tell  you  that  I  try  to  cheat  you — that  I  get 
my  brother  here  for  snatching  money,  that  I  want 
you  buy  a  horse  to  cheat  you.  They  are  fery  wicked 
liars.  God  shall  bunish  them!" 

"For  shame,  Jemileh!  To  speak  so  of  my  aunts, 
who  have  always  been  so  kind  to  you.  They  do  not 
mind  your  brother  coming  to  be  my  servant  in  the 


48  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

very  least.  Only  they  have  made  me  promise  that 
when  choosing  a  horse  I  shall  take  the  advice  of  the 
consul  and  Doctor  Wilson." 

"That  is  it!  They  think  we'd  cheat  you,  'cause 
we're  natifs !  Don't  I  know  the  way  they  think 
about  us  ?  God  shall  bunish  them !" 

"Don't  talk  such  wicked  nonsense!  They  said 
nothing  about  you." 

"I  know  they  try  to  turn  your  heart  against  me," 
blubbered  Jemileh,  partly  reassured.  "I  luf  you, 
and  I  did  so  hobe  you'd  come  and  lif  among  us  in 
my  fillage,  and  do  good  to  the  boor  wicked  Muslims 
like  you  said,  and  I  be  with  you  always  till  I  die. 
My  brother  tells  me  that  there  is  a  new,  clean  house, 
all  Eurobean  furnished,  which  the  sheykh  has  built. 
I  thought  berhabs  you'd  take  that  house,  and  haf 
me  with  you  as  your  serfant.  I  thought  to  be  so 
habby !  Now  they  stob  all  that !" 

"They  haven't  stopped  anything  at  all.  How 
could  they  stop  a  thing  they'd  never  dreamt  of? 
Now,  Jemileh,  no  more  of  this  silly  crying  about 
nothing!  I  promise  that  I'll  go  and  see  your  village 
and  the  house  you  mention.  If  the  house  is  at  all 
possible,  I'll  take  it.  There  now!  I'm  really  tired 
of  doing  nothing  here." 

It  took  Jemileh  many  seconds  to  graps  the  blessed 
meaning  of  those  words.  When  she  did  realize  her 
victory  she  wept  anew  and,  falling  down,  embraced 
the  fair  girl's  feet. 


VI 


Two  circumstances  unknown  to  Jemileh  had  con- 
tributed to  put  Miss  Wilding  out  of  humour  with 
the  city  and  the  life  she  led  there.  One  was  a  sec- 
ond visit  to  Emineh  Khanum  in  response  to  a  whole 
series  of  absurdly  passionate  appeals  from  that 
young  lady.  The  other  was  her  refusal  of  an  offer 
of  marriage  made  to  her  by  a  member  of  the  little 
British  colony.  The  two  adventures  were  insep- 
arable in  her  memory,  and,  united,  made  the  cause 
of  her  impatience  to  be  up  and  doing. 

Emineh  Khanum  in  her  garden  had  talked  of  mar- 
riage and  child-bearing  as  the  natural  aim  of  every 
girl,  in  terms  which  struck  her  English  visitor  as 
most  indelicate.  She  (Emineh)  herself,  she  said, 
was  married  to  a  man  whom  she  had  never  seen — 
an  officer  on  active  service  in  the  Yemen,  where  there 
was  a  war.  When  that  war  was  over,  if  God  willed, 
he  would  return  and  their  marriage  would  be  then 
completed.  When  Elsie  asked  her  how  she  could 
endure  the  prospect,  she  answered  with  a  merry 
laugh — 

"Why  should  I  mind?  He  is  a  man,  is  he  not? 
For  me,  I  know  no  man  except  my  father  and  my 
uncles  and  my  brother  and  our  servants.  It  is  cer- 

.49] 


50  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

tain  that  I  could  not  know  to  choose  a  man.  I 
might  choose  one  who  was  not  right  to  marry.  My 
father,  he  knows  men,  he  chooses  for  me." 

They  were  sitting  together  in  the  summer-house 
beside  the  singing  stream.  One  of  the  slave-girls, 
sitting  on  the  river's  brink  beneath  the  walnut  trees, 
twanged  a  lute  softly.  Emineh  went  on  to  expound 
her  views  of  life.  The  hope  of  children  was  the  ob- 
ject, not  the  man.  So  long  as  he  was  neither  wicked, 
cruel  nor  repulsive — and  he  would  not  be  any  of 
those  things  because  her  father  chose  him — she 
would  be  content  provided  that  he  gave  her  chil- 
dren— all  she  wanted. 

If  she  came  to  love  him,  that  would  be  from  God 
— an  added  blessing;  but  she  did  not  expect  to  love 
her  husband  as  she  loved  her  father  and  brothers  or 
the  slaves. 

"We  have  a  nobler  view  of  women,"  interrupted 
Elsie  hotly.  "The  woman  chooses  her  career  just 
like  the  man.  She  is  his  equal.  I  don't  suppose  that 
I  myself  shall  ever  marry." 

"I  know  that  many  English  women  do  not  marry, 
because  there  are  not  enough  men  for  all,  and  no 
man  is  allowed  to  marry  more  than  one.  But  you 
will  not  be  so  unfortunate.  You  are  so  charming," 
said  Emineh. 

"That  is  not  what  I  mean,"  cried  Elsie,  outraged. 

"I  mean  I  have  no  wish  to  marry.  I  do  not  rec- 
ognize the  need  you  speak  of" — here  she  blushed. 
"Of  course,  were  I  to  meet  a  man  whom  I  could 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  51 

really  love  with  all  my  heart,  it  would  be  different. 
But  I  am  not  on  the  look-out  for  such  a  man.  I 
have  my  work  to  do,  and  am  quite  happy,  without  a 
thought  of  the  things  you  speak  of.  We  do  not 
even  think  of  such  things,  much  less  name  them." 

Emineh  gave  a  puzzled  sigh. 

"It  seems  so  strange  to  us,  and  so  unnatural," 
she  murmured.  "Perhaps  that  is  why  you  Euro- 
peans are  so  discontented  and  immoral  after  mar- 
riage, because  you  never  think  about  these  things 
before." 

"But  we  are  not  immoral  after  marriage.  It  is 
a  most  sacred  state  with  us." 

"I  read  in  books,"  replied  Emineh  Khanum,  with  a 
shrug.  She  lit  a  cigarette  and  blew  the  smoke  away. 

"In  France,  perhaps,  not  England,"  answered 
Elsie.  "As  I  say,  I  have  my  work  to  do;  I  do  not 
regard  marriage  as  the  aim  of  life." 

"God  made  us  for  that  purpose,  as  it  seems  to 
me,"  Emineh  sighed.  "But  what  work  have  you  to 
do?  I  did  not  know." 

"I  am  a  missionary,  or  soon  hope  to  be  one,"  an- 
swered Elsie,  feeling  very  bold. 

"Ah,  you  will  help  your  aunts,  those  kind  and 
generous  ladies,  with  their  school.  I  understand!" 

"No,  I  intend  to  work  upon  my  own  account, 
somewhere  in  this  country.  The  people  here  seem 
so  neglected  and  ignorant." 

"I  always  feared  you  were  fanatical.  .  .  .  But 
it  is  good  for  me  to  hear  that  you  are  not  departing 


52  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

far  away  from  me.  Tell  me  what  your  purpose  is 
to  do." 

Miss  Wilding  then  launched  forth  upon  an  ex- 
planation which  the  sense  of  opposition  rendered 
over- vehement.  More  than  a  little  nervous,  she  was 
conscious  of  her  preaching  tone,  but  could  not  stop 
it.  She  wished  Emineh  to  perceive  the  nobility  and 
beauty  of  the  course  of  life  which  she  had  chosen, 
and  the  suspicion  which  came  to  her  from  her  com- 
panion's startled  silence  that  she  was  being  merely 
guilty  of  bad  manners  added  to  her  irritation. 
Emineh  reclined  before  her  in  a  pensive  attitude, 
eyes  fixed  upon  the  ground. 

At  the  end  she  said,  "I  fear  I  do  not  understand ; 
it  is  so  different.  We  others  leave  such  things  to 
Most  High  God.  Ah,  here  is  Fatmeh,"  she  exclaimed 
upon  a  glance  towards  the  house.  "She  is  my — 
nurse,  don't  you  call  it?  I  mean  to  say  she  guarded 
me  when  I  was  little.  She  wished  so  much  to  see 

you." 

An  old  negress  veiled  in  white  approached  the 
arbour  with  salutations  and  ingratiating  grins. 
Emineh  spoke  to  her  in  Turkish,  when  she  flung  up 
both  her  hands  in  comic  horror,  then,  turning  to  the 
visitor,  gave  forth  a  torrent  of  shrill  cries  enforced 
by  smiles  and  nods  and  gestures  of  assurance. 

"I  told  her  that  you  would  not  marry,  but  would 
be  a  preacher,"  said  Emineh.  "She  says  that  all 
such  talk  is  nonsense,  with  your  shape.  She  says 
that  she  can  see  the  future.  A  big  strong  man  will 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  53 

marry  you  and  give  you  fifteen — eighteen — twenty 
children." 

Elsie  could  not  choose  but  laugh  at  the  prediction, 
but  she  went  away  with  feelings  of  defilement  and 
the  resolution  never  to  return.  It  was  on  the  fol- 
lowing day  that  Dr.  Wilson,  the  physician  in  charge 
of  the  Scottish  mission  hospital,  asked  her  to  marry 
him.  Knowing  her  wish  to  ride,  he  had  brought 
round  a  horse  for  her  which  gave  trouble  for  the 
first  half-hour  when  they  were  on  crowded  roads, 
but  after  that,  when  she  desired  a  gallop,  became 
spiritless.  It  was  all  that  she  could  do  to  urge  it  to 
a  stumbling  canter.  She  was  wondering,  how  any 
horseman  could  have  chosen  such  a  beast,  when  she 
became  aware  that  her  companion  was  addressing 
her  with  deep  emotion.  Turning  to  him,  she  no- 
ticed that  he  looked  absurd  beneath  a  solar  topee 
and  a  blue-and-white  checked  pugaree  aflutter  in  the 
breeze. 

"The  life  is  not  the  kind  of  thing  which  one  could 
ask  the  average  homebred  girl  to  share.  But  I  have 
heard  that  you  intend  to  stay  here  and  do  mission- 
ary work;  and  that  emboldens  me." 

He  was  a  big  man,  with  thick  eyebrows  and  a  fat 
moustache,  far  from  ill-looking  in  a  heavy  way.  She 
had  felt  rather  attracted  by  him  till  this  minute. 
But  now,  with  his  proposal,  thoughts  of  "the  big 
strong  man,"  "the  twenty  children"  prophesied  by 
Emineh's  nurse  recurred  to  her,  and  she  regarded 
him  with  downright  loathing. 


54  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

i 

"I  plead  my  cause  but  badly,"  he  kept  droning 

on,  "but  you  will  please  understand  that  I  love  you 
dearly  and  would  be  the  proudest,  happiest  man  on 
earth  if  you  said  'yes'  to  me.  It  makes  me  mad  to 
think  of  you  working  alone  among  the  rascals  of  this 
country.  It's  not  fitting  for  a  girl  like  you,  and 
you  can't  do  any  good  alone.  Let  me  take  care  of 
you  and  help  you,  my  own  lassie!" 

"Please  stop!"  she  cried.  Had  she  not  been  so 
occupied  with  his  appearance  as  not  to  catch  the 
half  of  what  he  said,  she  would  have  checked  him 
long  before  he  got  to  that  "my  own."  "I  am  sorry 
if  anything  in  my  behaviour  has  made  you  think  I 
cared  for  you  in  that  way,  for  I  don't  at  all." 

He  behaved  extremely  well,  accepting  "No"  at 
once,  and  talking  in  a  natural  voice,  though  seldom, 
on  the  homeward  ride.  But  she  felt  nauseated  by 
his  presence  there  beside  her  and  dreaded  the  neces- 
sity of  meeting  him  in  days  to  come.  Everybody 
seemed  to  think  that  she  would  be  a  failure  as  an  in- 
dependent missionary,  that  humdrum  marriage  was 
her  destiny.  Well,  time  should  show  them. 

She  longed  to  get  away  to  work  of  some  kind,  to 
order  her  own  life  in  her  own  way.  No  sooner  had 
Jemileh  mentioned  the  new  house  that  was  to  let 
at  Deyr  Amun  than  Elsie  set  her  heart  on  seeing  it. 
Yet  it  was  not  till  some  days  later  that  she  told  her 
aunts  that  she  had  just  heard  of  a  furnished  house 
up  in  the  mountains,  which  she  thought  of  taking 
for  the  rest  of  the  summer — perhaps  for  longer,  if 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  65 

she  found  it  suitable.  She  made  the  statement  on  re- 
turning from  a  visit,  so  that  it  might  seem  that  she 
had  heard  the  news  outside  the  house.  That  was 
because  she  did  not  wish  to  name  Jemileh.  Her 
aunts  suspected  the  poor  girl  of  selfish  scheming; 
while  Elsie  knew  that  she  was  quite  devoted  to  her. 
Upon  the  great  devotion  of  Jemileh  depended  the 
success  of  the  whole  missionary  project. 

"Where  is  the  house  you  speak  of?"  asked  Miss 
Jane. 

"At  Deyr  Amun." 

"That  is  Jemileh's  village!" 

"That  is  what  I  thought  so  fortunate.  She  can 
tell  me  all  about  it.  And  I  thought  of  begging  you 
to  let  her  come  with  me.  Will  you  ride  up  with  me 
on  Monday  to  inspect  the  house?" 

"I  feel  too  old,"  remarked  Miss  Jane.  "But  your 
Aunt  Sophy  would  no  doubt  enjoy  the  breath  of 
mountain  air.  This  heat  is  very  trying.  We  must 
find  some  respectable  native  gentleman  to  accom- 
pany you  and  be  your  agent  with  the  owner." 

As  if  by  pre-arrangement  the  old  maids  refrained 
from  comment  or  expressions  of  surprise.  Miss 
Jane  spoke  in  an  acquiescent  tone,  as  who  should 
say:  "You  are,  we  know,  quite  independent.  We 
have  no  right  to  order  you,  and,  as  we  do  not  al- 
together understand  you,  had  better  not  advise." 
Elsie,  feeling  that  they  guessed  what  she  had  failed 
to  tell  them,  felt  small  before  their  perfect  equa- 
nimity. 


VII 


ON  Monday  morning,  half-an-hour  before  the  sun 
rose,  an  extraordinary  cavalcade  set  out  from  the 
house  of  the  English  ladies,  skirted  the  city,  choos- 
ing empty  byways,  and  ambled  through  the  gar- 
dens towards  the  eastern  hills.  There  was  Elsie  on 
the  thoroughbred  which  she  had  newly  bought ;  Miss 
Sophy  and  Jemileh  on  hired  donkeys,  the  owner  of 
the  donkeys  being  in  attendance ;  Jemileh's  brother 
Faris  on  a  raw-boned  packhorse  which,  in  Jemileh's 
scheme,  Miss  Wilding  was  to  purchase  for  him  for 
the  sum  of  eight  pounds  Turk;  and  a  native  scrip- 
ture-reader from  the  Scottish  mission,  who  was  to 
be  Miss  Wilding's  spokesman  in  the  bargaining, 
mounted  on  his  own  mule  gaudily  caparisoned  with 
hanging  tassels  and  small  tinkling  bells.  This  dig- 
nitary wore  a  frock  coat  and  black  trousers  with  a 
flannel  shirt,  a  crimson  cord  with  little  tassels  serv- 
ing him  for  necktie.  A  black  tarbush  worn  far  back 
on  his  head  accentuated  the  projection  of  his  great 
hooked  nose  and  bushy  grey  moustache  above  a 
triple  chin  and  an  imposing  paunch.  His  name  was 
the  Khawajah  Yusuf,  and  he  spoke  much  of  a  son 
of  his  named  Percy  (he  pronounced  it  Barsi)  who, 
it  seemed,  had  made  some  money  in  America..  Abbas 

56 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  57 

brought  up  the  rear  of  the  procession.  He  was 
mounted  on  an  ass  which  he  had  borrowed  some- 
where, which  also  bore  the  day's  provisions  in  two 
saddlebags.  A  dagger  and  an  antique  pistol  stuffed 
his  scarlet  belt,  which,  with  his  fez  and  scarlet  slip- 
pers shone  in  contrast  with  his  white  robe,  snowy 
turban  and  black  face  and  legs.  Faris  led  the  way 
with  conscious  pride.  It  was  a  gala  day  for  him 
and  for  Jemileh.  For  a  week  they  had  been  send- 
ing message  upon  message  to  their  relatives  in  Deyr 
Amun  in  order  to  secure  a  fit  reception  for  their 
lady.  On  this  account  a  certain  measure  of  anxiety 
chastened  Jemileh's  joy  at  setting  out. 

The  sun  rose  as  they  crossed  a  high-backed  bridge 
over  a  noisy  stream  which  Elsie  thought  must  be 
the  same  which  sang  beside  Emineh  Khanum's  sum- 
mer-house, and  reached  a  place  where  five  ways  met 
beneath  an  ancient  ilex.  Here  they  diverged  into 
a  sandy  bridle-path  between  hedges  rich  of  perfume 
in  the  morning  air.  All  at  once  Elsie  gave  her  horse 
the  rein  and  galloped  off.  Faris  pursued  her  as  in 
duty  bound.  The  donkeys,  moved  by  that  example, 
broke  away.  Abbas,  in  glee,  belaboured  his  with  all 
his  might,  uttering  strange  sounds,  agrin  from  ear 
to  ear.  Miss  Sophy  tried  with  all  her  might  to 
check  her  steed,  appealing  to  the  running  donkey- 
man  in  English.  He,  misunderstanding  her  entrea- 
ties, beat  and  prodded  the  unlucky  beast,  obliging 
it  to  go  still  faster.  The  scripture-reader,  who  was 
very  fat,  and  could  not  lay  both  hands  upon  the  rein 


58  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

because  with  one  he  held  up  a  white  sunshade  (the 
which  he  wished  to  close  but  could  not  owing  to 
his  mule's  vagaries),  feared  either  that  he  would 
drop  and  so  defile  that  badge  of  honour,  or  that  it 
would  be  caught,  he  with  it,  in  some  overhanging 
branch,  or  else  that  he  himself  would  be  thrown  off 
and  injured,  perhaps  killed.  He  cried  out  that  the 
pace  was  madness,  they  would  tire  the  beasts  before 
arriving  at  the  hard  work  of  the  mountains. 

Elsie  was  first  to  reach  the  open  country.  Faris 
came  next,  some  hundred  yards  behind  her.  Upon 
the  summit  of  a  rise  they  stopped  and  waited  for 
the  others.  These  presently  emerged  from  the  green 
wall  which  the  orchards  bosoming  the  city  here  pre- 
sented to  the  plain.  The  little  gust  of  energy  had 
passed,  and  they  were  jogging  placidly,  the  white 
parasol  of  the  Khawajah  Yusuf  dominating  them 
with  a  protective  air.  Abbas,  in  rear  of  the  pro- 
cession, sat  back  on  the  hindquarters  of  his  little 
steed  with  feet  stuck  out  beside  the  donkey's  ears. 
Elsie  kept  with  them  thenceforth,  Faris  resuming 
his  right  pace  as  leader,  for  he  knew  the  road,  which 
was  without  a  trace  upon  the  sunburnt  plain.  They 
reached  the  hills  and  journeyed  for  an  hour  in  and 
out  among  the  boulders  of  a  wady,  keeping  to  the 
shady  side.  A  grove  of  fruit-trees  came  in  sight, 
plumed  with  some  tall  white  poplars — the  first  vil- 
lage. As  they  rode  through  it,  ragged  children  fol- 
lowed them,  women  in  doorways  veiled  their  faces  as 
they  passed.  Turbaned  men  at  work  upon  the  ter- 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  69 

races  stood  up  to  look  at  them,  hands  shading  eyes. 

"Muslims,"  remarked  Jemileh  to  her  mistress,  who 
was  riding  near.  "A  good  thing  we  haf  got  Abbas 
with  us.  If  not,  we  should  haf  got  a  stone  or  two, 
I  shouldn't  wonder." 

The  Khawajah  Yusuf,  from  beneath  his  parasol, 
saluted  every  one  they  met  with  great  benevolence. 

The  path  grew  steeper  and  more  stony.  There 
was  no  shade  to  reach  above  a  donkey's  saddle.  The 
heat  increased.  The  scripture-reader  blew  great 
gusts.  His  face  was  streaming.  Reaching  an  emi- 
nence, he  gave  his  mule  a  rest  and,  dragging  out  a 
highly  coloured  pocket-handkerchief,  relieved  his 
brow. 

Jemileh  cried,  "Our  Lord  reward  thee,  O  Khawa- 
jah Yusuf,  for  the  honour  thou  art  doing  to  our 
village.  The  sheykh  and  all  the  elders  are  thy  ser- 
vants and  will  kiss  thy  hand.  It  is  not  every  day 
that  they  can  hear  the  voice  of  one  so  learned,  the 
author  of  a  famous  book  of  heavenly  wisdom." 

The  Khawajah  Yusuf  had,  in  fact,  compiled  a 
book  of  Christian  maxims  which  was  entitled  Pearls 
of  Chastity. 

"Is  it  much  further?"  asked  Miss  Sophy,  much 
dishevelled. 

"No,  no,  a  little  way!  There  is  the  fillage. 
Look!"  replied  Jemileh,  laughing  from  mere  joy  of 
life. 

Deyr  Arnun  was  a  large  village  rich  in  orchards. 
It  lay  mapped  out  before  them  on  a  mountain-side 


60  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

spreading  upwards  from  the  brink  of  a  ravine  which 
they  must  pass  to  get  to  it.  In  the  bottom  of  the 
gorge  appeared  a  water-mill  and  other  buildings 
among  poplar  trees.  Facing  Deyr  Amun  across 
this  chasm  there  stood  a  village  of  much  poorer  as- 
pect, its  houses  all  mud-roofed  and  of  one  storey. 

"That  is  Ai'neyn,  the  Muslim  fillage  that  I  told 
you  of,"  Jemileh  told  Miss  Wilding  as  they  rode 
towards  it.  "They  hate  the  Christians  fery  much 
indeed." 

After  Ai'neyn  there  came  a  steep  descent.  The 
path  was  like  rough  steps  worn  in  the  rock.  The 
ladies  and  the  scripture-reader  here  dismounted. 
Only  Abbas  and  Faris  kept  their  seats.  At  the  bot- 
tom, in  the  poplar  grove,  they  called  a  halt  while 
the  procession  was  re-organized. 

Then,  as  they  crossed  an  old  stone  bridge  beside 
the  mill,  the  noise  of  water  and  the  shade  refreshing 
them,  a  boy  in  saffron  robe  and  dark  tarbush 
vaulted  a  wall  and  joined  them,  smiling  broadly. 
Jemileh  introduced  him  as  her  little  brother.  She 
made  him  kiss  the  hands  of  the  two  English  ladies 
and  also  that  of  the  Khawajah  Yusuf,  who  made 
some  demur.  A  little  further  on  they  met  a  group 
of  twenty  persons,  all  of  them  in  some  degree  Jemi- 
leh's  relatives ;  and  their  escort  steadily  increased  as 
they  advanced  towards  Dyer  Amun.  All  who  had 
not  gone  out  upon  the  road  to  meet  them  stood  on 
the  housetops,  in  the  doorways,  or  at  points  of  van- 
tage to  observe  their  entry.  Flags  were  flying ;  little 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  61 

drums  were  being  beaten  by  the  children,  and,  to 
Miss  Sophy's  infinite  alarm,  real  guns  were  fired  re- 
peatedly quite  near  to  them.  Jemileh  beamed. 

"You  are  to  be  the  guests  of  the  sheykh  of  the 
fillage — the  same  whose  house  we  come  to  see,  my 
father  tells  me,"  she  informed  Miss  Wilding. 

"But  we  have  brought  our  luncheon  with  us,"  said 
Miss  Sophy,  overhearing.  "We  only  want  a  shady 
place  in  which  to  picnic." 

"He'd  be  offended,  miss !"  Jemileh  cried.  "He 
has  brebared  a  feast." 

They  were  led  up  to  a  solid  old  stone  house  with  a 
fa9ade  of  arches,  two  of  which  had  been  filled  in 
with  glass  to  suit  the  fashion  of  the  times.  Above 
the  third  an  upper  chamber  had  been  added,  roofed 
with  tiles,  approached  from  the  flat  housetop,  which 
it  dominated  like  a  tower.  The  sheykh,  a  grey- 
beard with  eyes  as  furtive  and  alert  as  fireflies,  led 
them  up  a  flight  of  steps  against  the  wall  to  this  new 
room.  The  ladies  entered.  The  scripture-reader, 
jibbing  at  the  threshold,  protesting  that  the  honour 
was  too  much  for  such  as  he,  the  sheykh  adjured 
him  not  to  say  such  things,  which  might  bring  pun- 
ishment upon  them  all,  but  enter  quickly.  He  then 
seized  hold  of  him  and  pushed  him  in. 

They  had  to  wait  two  hours  before  the  feast  was 
ready,  but  sherbet  and  some  light  refreshments  were 
brought  in,  together  with  a  gramophone  which  a 
servant  of  the  sheykh  kept  going  to  beguile  the  time. 
The  meal,  when  it  did  come,  was  served  on  great 


62  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

brass  trays  set  upon  stools.  The  scripture-reader 
raised  a  cry  of  incapacity  at  every  course,  then  ate 
enormously.  Wine  from  the  village  vineyards,  fruit 
from  the  village  orchards  must  be  tasted.  It  seemed 
as  if  the  compliments  would  never  end.  At  length 
Miss  Wilding  whispered  to  Jemileh  that  she  wished 
to  see  the  house  without  delay. 

"Upon  my  head,"  replied  their  host,  when  the  sug- 
gestion reached  him.  "Tell  the  lady  that,  by  Allah, 
all  our  pleasure  is  obedience." 

At  his  command  a  servant  brought  him  a  great 
iron  key,  with  which  in  hand  he  led  them  down  to  the 
meydan  where  the  crowd  waited.  Led  by  the  sheykh 
and  his  guests  the  concourse  streamed  along  two  ter- 
raced fields  to  a  house  entirely  modern  in  appearance 
beneath  a  red-tiled  roof.  Before  it  grew  a  clump  of 
umbrella  pines.  Jemileh,  watching  her  beloved's 
face,  knew  that  she  was  taken  with  the  first  sight  of 
the  place.  Indoors  she  whispered  to  the  sheykh  to 
let  the  ladies  roam  at  will,  and  give  his  whole  atten- 
tion to  the  scripture-reader,  who  would  do  the  bar- 
gaining. 

In  the  entrance-hall  a  great  reception  was  then 
held,  while  Elsie  and  Miss  Sophy  viewed  the  upper 
rooms.  The  sheykh  expounded  the  whole  house  to 
the  Khawajah  Yusuf,  giving  him  the  history  of  its 
construction  from  the  first  idea,  with  every  detail  of 
the  cost  that  he  could  call  to  mind.  A  hundred  and 
twenty  French  pounds  a  year  was  not  too  much  to 
ask  for  rent  for  such  a  house,  now  was  it  ?  B*  Al- 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  63 

lah,  he  could  get  that  money  for  the  summer  only 
from  the  Khawajah  Michaelides,  the  rich  banker. 

The  Khawajah  Yusuf  thought  that  fifty  English 
pounds  a  year  would  be  a  reasonable  rent  to  ask. 
A  murmur  of  approval  filled  the  room.  Fifty  Eng- 
lish pounds  had  been  the  ultimate  price  in  the 
sheykh's  mind,  as  all  the  village  knew.  He  had  not 
expected  anything  like  so  much  for  a  first  offer. 

Again  the  sheykh  conversed  with  the  Khawajah 
Yusuf  as  the  apple  of  his  eye,  praising  God  for  let- 
ting their  poor  village  gaze  upon  the  countenance  of 
such  a  man,  so  wise,  so  virtuous.  His  honour,  when 
at  meat,  had  deigned  to  praise  the  village  wine,  the 
village  olives  and  dried  figs.  A  jar  of  the  said  wine, 
a  sack  of  the  said  olives  and  dried  figs  were  already 
on  their  journey  to  his  honour's  house.  On  this 
same  day  of  every  year,  please  God,  a  similar  gift 
would  be  received  by  him  from  Deyr  Amun  as  trib- 
ute due,  in  memory  of  his  most  gracious  visit. 

"Well,  seventy  French  pounds.  But  that  is  my 
last  word,"  said  the  Khawajah  Yusuf,  with  a  smile 
of  vast  indulgence. 

"For  thy  sa^e,  so  be  it,"  said  the  sheykh,  with  a 
huge  shrug,  "though,  Allah  witness,  I  defraud  my- 
self in  the  agreement.  For  the  sake  of  thy  dear 
chin,  then,  so  be  it!" 

The  ladies  came  from  their  inspection  of  the 
house,  the  whole  room  rising  on  their  entrance  with 
choice  blessings.  The  place  of  honour  was  resigned 
to  them. 


64  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

"I  like  the  house,"  Elsie  assured  Jemileh.  "And 
the  furniture,  what  there  is  of  it,  is  better  than  I 
had  expected.  There  only  remains  the  question  of 
the  rent." 

The  scripture-reader  turned  to  Elsie  with  an  air 
of  triumph. 

"It  is  settled,"  he  informed  her.  "You  bay  sef- 
enty  French  bounds." 

"That  sounds  a  great  deal,"  said  Miss  Sophy 
Berenger. 

The  scripture-reader  smiled  indulgently.  "Ten 
years  ago,  berhabs,  dear  lady.  Not  to-day.  Efry- 
thing  is  now  dearer  in  this  country."  Lowering  his 
voice,  he  said,  "I  tell  you  so,  you  can  belief  me.  I 
beat  him  down  and  down.  He  wish  to  blease  you. 
You  will  not  find  another  such  a  place  so  cheab  as 
this.  I  know  that  my  son  Barsi  would  bay  more  for 
rent." 

Elsie  agreeing,  he  addressed  the  landlord  at  some 
length,  announcing  that  the  English  lady  was  con- 
tent with  the  rent  named  and  congratulating  Deyr 
Amun  upon  the  acquisition  of  a  benefactress. 

"Well,  I'm  glad  that's  settled,"  exclaimed  Elsie 
with  a  sigh.  Jemileh  instantly  translated  the  re- 
mark, making  it  appear  a  compliment  to  Deyr 
Amun.  The  sheykh  sprang  forth  and  kissed  the 
lady's  hand.  The  room  rose  with  a  shout  of  praise, 
and  rushed  upon  her. 

Blushing,  half  afraid,  she  begged  Jemileh  to  re- 
strain them;  but  Jemileh,  weeping  with  delight,  re- 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  65 

plied,  "They  do  quite  right.  You  are  now  like  our 
queen.  We  are  so  fery  bleased  you  come  to  lif  with 
us."  By  the  time  this  tumult  had  subsided,  the  light 
which  came  through  the  great  window  of  the  hall  had 
softened;  it  was  past  the  middle  of  the  afternoon. 
Cups  of  coffee  were  presented  to  the  visitors,  who, 
having  emptied  them,  rose  to  depart. 

Elsie  paused  upon  the  terrace  to  take  in  the  view. 
It  had  been  a  dazzle  when  they  came  two  hours  be- 
fore. Now  purple  shadows  covered  half  the  wady, 
a  glimpse  of  the  distant  plain  had  the  colour  of  ripe 
wheat,  the  hills  beyond  were  of  the  purest  azure. 
There  was  colour  everywhere. 

The  crowd,  which  had  stood  still,  awaiting  her 
good  pleasure,  moved  when  she  moved,  and  chat- 
tered once  again.  They  returned  to  the  meydan  of 
the  sheykh's  house,  where  Abbas,  Faris  and  the 
donkey-man  had  the  beasts  ready. 

"Abuna  has  not  joined  us.  Why  is  that?"  said 
Faris,  who  had  brought  out  Elsie's  horse,  to  his 
father,  who  was  holding  it  while  he  took  up  the 
girths. 

"He  sulks,"  was  the  reply.  "He  says  that  Bru- 
testants  are  devils.  He  threatens  us  with  Hell 
hereafter,  he  is  so  annoyed  about  thy  lady's  coming. 
We  had  kept  it  from  him  till  to-day.  The  thing 
is  new  to  him.  To-morrow,  please  God,  he  will 
be  more  reasonable.  Poor  men  must  live!  He  will 
remember  that.  He  will  not  excommunicate  us  as  he 


66  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

threatens.     Every  one  knows  that  Brutestants  are 

heretics,  but " 

"Hush!"  whispered  Paris.  "Behold  the  offspring 
of  all  filth  draws  nigh !"  His  father,  looking  round 
in  some  dismay,  beheld  the  scripture-reader,  fat  and 
smiling,  his  black  fez  tilted  at  a  rakish  angle.  Un- 
obtrusively he  crossed  himself  and  breathed  a  curse 
on  renegades. 


vm 

THE  church  at  Deyr  Amun,  built  upon  a  knee 
of  the  mountain  overlooking  the  whole  village,  dif- 
fered from  the  flat-roofed  houses  adjacent  to  it  only 
in  possessing  a  square  doorway,  white-washed  to  be 
seen  afar,  and  a  small  turret  at  one  corner  of  its 
terrace-roof  holding  a  little  bell  of  clamorous 
tongue.  The  bell  had  hung  there  now  for  fifty 
years,  but  the  old  wooden  gong  which  called  to 
prayer  in  days  when  church-bells  were  forbidden 
in  the  Ottoman  dominions  still  stood  inside  the  door, 
and  was  still  used  at  solemn  moments  of  the  service 
to  bespeak  attention.  The  bell  was  silent  now,  the 
church  was  empty,  though  its  door  stood  open, 
showing  depths  of  gloom,  for  there  was  not  a 
window.  It  was  the  morrow  of  the  day  of  Elsie's 
visit.  The  sun  was  near  to  setting;  Deyr  Amun 
with  all  its  lands  was  bathed  in  rosy  light,  while 
the  village  of  Ai'neyn  across  the  wady,  distant  but 
half-a-mile  as  the  crow  flies,  was  plunged  already 
in  the  evening  shadow. 

Antun,  the  parish  priest  of  Deyr  Amun,  sat  cross- 
legged  with  his  back  to  the  church  wall,  forming, 
with  a  number  of  the  males  of  his  flock,  who  also 
crossed  their  legs  or  squatted,  a  rough  circle,  behind 

67 


68  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

which  hovered  groups  of  women  with  embroidered 
headshawls,  listening  with  all  their  ears.  Children 
were  playing  on  the  outskirts  of  the  throng.  Now 
and  then  a  woman  turned  to  censure  or  cuff  one  of 
them  who  at  the  moment  happened  to  be  making 
too  much  noise. 

The  priest  was  evidently  angry,  though  his  mien 
was  calm.  He  was  telling  certain  persons  what  he 
thought  about  them. 

"But,  O  our  father,  deign  to  listen,"  cried  the 
sheykh  of  the  village  in  a  tone  of  fierce  entreaty. 
"Thou  speakest  as  a  priest — a  prophet,  one  might 
say,  by  Allah!  for  the  justice  of  thy  speech  is  un- 
deniable. Thou  thinkest  of  the  truths  of  our 
religion.  But  I,  the  civil  head  of  this  community, 
speak  naturally  from  another  point  of  view.  I  con- 
sider the  material  welfare  of  this  village.  The  lady 
is  a  Brutestant,  that  is  well  known — a  heretic,  we 
all  agree  to  that.  But,  by  the  blessing  of  the 
Highest,  she  is  wealthy,  and  of  small  intelligence. 
She  gives  away  her  money  easily.  We  have  the 
word  of  the  daughter  of  old  Abu  Faris  here  for  that. 
Allah  knows  how  we  all  grieve  that  thou  wast 
absent  yesterday,  else  thou  hadst  heard  the  state- 
ment from  the  girl's  own  lips.  She  it  is  who  governs 
every  movement  of  the  Englishwoman,  and  she  told 
us  plainly  what  the  benefits  will  be.  First,  there 
will  be  a  school  where  all  our  sons  will  be  instructed 
in  the  lore  of  Europe  which  enables  men  to  earn 
much  money  and  gain  high  positions  in  the  world. 


THE  HOUSE  OF  \VAR  69 

Then  there  will  be  another  school  where  girls  will 
learn  refinement ;  a  dispensary,  where  sick  folk  will  be 
healed  for  nothing,  and,  in  due  time,  no  doubt,  a 
hospital. 

"Then  view  the  matter,  O  beloved,  in  another 
aspect.  With  the  Englishwoman  resident  among 
us,  our  grievances  will  quickly  reach  the  powers  of 
Europe.  If  the  tax-farmer  oppress  us,  he  will 
hear  about  it.  He  will  be  taught  to  respect  us 
and  reduce  exactions  in  our  favour;  and  thus,  since 
he  must  raise  a  certain  sum,  will  throw  the  weight 
of  his  extortion  upon  other  villages — chiefly  upon 
the  Muslims,  who  have  no  foreign  protectors.  Thus 
we  gain  doubly,  by  our  own  relief  and  by  the  extra 
burden  laid  upon  our  neighbors. 

"Again,  suppose  there  should  be  war  and  that 
the  Turks  should  come  to  seize  our  beasts  as  usual 
for  the  army,  can  we  not  make  them  over  to  the 
Englishwoman  for  the  time,  placing  them  on 
her  ground  or  in  her  stable?  And  she,  being  above 
the  law,  will  save  them  for  us.  Let  but  a  few  of 
us  appear  to  listen  to  her  preaching,  and  it  is  certain 
she  will  do  all  this  and  more.  The  Consul  also,  her 
protector,  will  protect  us,  regarding  us  almost  as 
Englishmen." 

The  sheykh,  concluding,  shrugged  his  shoulders 
and  spread  out  his  hands,  expressing  thus  his  in- 
ability to  comprehend  how  any  Christian  man  could 
frown  at  such  a  prospect. 

His  speech  had  not  passed  without  interruption. 


70  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

The  priest,  with  eyes  now  turned  in  horror  up  to 
Heaven,  now  rolling  round  with  fierce  contempt  on 
the  opponent  ranks,  had  called  on  God  for  patience 
at  short  intervals ;  and  his  supporters  had  from 
time  to  time  expressed  dissent.  From  the  women 
also  had  come  angry  murmurs. 

Before  replying,  Antun  rolled  a  cigarette  and 
put  a  light  to  it  deliberately.  He  fixed  his  hot 
brown  eyes  upon  the  distant  ridge,  which  stood  up 
dark  against  the  lighted  sky,  as  he  blew  off  the 
first  smoke.  Then  turning  to  the  sheykh,  he  said 
with  bitter  sarcasm — 

"All  very  pretty,  O  beloved.  You  grow  rich; 
you  have  your  schools ;  your  children  grow  up 
Franks  and  give  themselves  grand  airs,  like  this 
admired  Jemileh;  you  enjoy  the  protection  of  the 
Consul,  and  oppress  your  neighbours ;  you  have  your 
hospital  and  your  dispensary,  and  all  for  nothing! 
Very  pretty — in  this  fleeting  world  where  men  were 
meant  to  suffer  for  the  faith,  and  train  their  souls 
by  discipline  to  gain  salvation !  But  one  thing  you 
shall  not  escape  by  favour  of  your  Englishwoman 
or  protection  of  the  Powers  of  Europe.  The  judg- 
ment of  the  Lord  awaits  you  surely.  What  will  you 
say  when  questioned  of  your  life  on  earth?  'The 
way  was  plain,  yet  we  diverged  from  it.  The  truth 
was  known  to  us,  yet  we  applauded  lies.  We  said, 
as  say  the  Franks:  'Let  us  be  comfortable!  A  pill 
is  better  than  a  prayer  for  health.  Perpetual  fatness 
is  better  than  the  many  fasts  the  Church  pre- 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  71 

scribes.  To  build  a  house  is  better  than  to  build  a 
church.  To  store  up  wealth  is  better  than  to  save 
one's  soul.  We  turned  our  back  upon  the  Sacra- 
ments because  they  brought  us  no  advancement  in 
the  world,  and  followed  after  infidels  who  gave  us 
gold.  We  whispered  with  the  Franks :  Who  knows 
if  there  is  any  God  ?'  " 

At  that  arose  loud  cries  of  horror  and  applause. 
Old  Abu  Faris  shouted — 

"God  forbid !  Thou  liest,  O  our  father !  We  shall 
not  say  that !" 

"What  think  you  that  our  Lord  will  answer  you? 
There  can  be  no  question.  The  judgment  on  you 
is  already  known.  You  know  it,  though  you  would 
suppress  the  knowledge  in  your  hearts.  There  will 
be  no  escape  for  sinners  of  your  sort,  nor  any  mercy. 
You  will  fry  in  Hell  eternally  and  the  devil  (may 
God  curse  him)  and  his  angels  will  find  recreation 
in  pushing  your  poor,  charred  but  everliving  bodies 
to  the  heart  of  the  fire.  Wealth  and  comfort  for  a 
day  and  this  eternally.  Now  you  know  your  lot  in 
this  world  and  the  next." 

The  conflicting  shouts  rose  louder  than  before. 
A  woman  called  out — 

"Hear  him!  Hear  our  father!  His  words  are 
binding  through  eternity!" 

"Not  when  uttered  without  understanding  of  the 
case  before  him,"  cried  the  sheykh  of  the  village,  be- 
tween wrath  and  terror.  "Allah  Most  High  is  per- 
fectly aware  that  the  case  is  not  at  all  as  stated  by 


72  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

our  father  Antun.  The  conversation  will  be  other 
than  as  he  describes  it.  Our  Lord  will  say :  'Where- 
fore did  you  consort  on  earth  with  dirty  heretics?' 
and  we  shall  answer:  'Allah  witness  that  our  inten- 
tion in  so  doing  was  not  evil.  We  sought  thereby  to 
benefit  God's  people.  By  doing  so  we  helped  to 
raise  the  true  church  in  our  land  above  the  Muslims, 
Katuliks  and  other  infidels  and  heretics,  thus  pre- 
paring the  great  day  when  we  shall  say  to  all  those 
others:  'Be  orthodox — or  perish,  every  one.'  And 
Allah,  seeing  our  good  purpose,  will  exclaim,  'Well 
done,'  or  at  the  worst  will  order  us  a  minute's  beat- 
ing. That  is  the  right  view  of  our  purpose,  neigh- 
bours. Our  father,  in  his  anger,  does  us  wrong." 

"Allah!  Allah!"  moaned  the  priest  as  one  in  pain. 
"Behold  you  Brutestants  already  in  your  reason- 
ing. What  know  you  of  the  things  of  Heaven  or 
the  words  of  God  ?  If  you  do  this  thing" — his  angry 
tone  here  sank  to  a  low  snarl — "you  all  shall  fry 
eternally.  By  Allah,  I  can  hear  your  shrieks  and 
anguished  groans.  The  odour  of  your  burning  fat 
is  in  my  nostrils." 

The  father  of  Jemileh,  who  had  long  been  rest- 
less, could  bear  his  fear  no  longer,  but  ran  forward 
and  flung  himself  upon  the  ground  before  the  priest, 
exclaiming — 

"Have  mercy,  O  our  father!  I  am  poor! 
Wealth,  education,  healing,  are,  Allah  knows,  much 
needed  in  our  village.  There  is  but  one  way  to 
obtain  them  and  that  way  is  foul.  But  thou  hast 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  73 

power  from  Allah,  thou  canst  cleanse  it  for  us.  Give 
us  but  absolution,  and  we  shall  be  saved." 

The  sheykh  and  all  his  party  cried,  "Well  said! 
Absolve  us,  O  our  father,  for  our  crime  is  pardon- 
able!" 

"I  shall  not  give  you  absolution,  sons  of  dogs !" 
replied  the  priest.  Beset  by  a  whole  crowd  of  eager 
suppliants,  he  turned  aside  his  face  this  way  and 
that,  and  motioned  "No"  incessantly  with  both  his 
hands. 

A  young  man  in  a  robe  of  yellow  thinly  striped 
with  green,  a  new  tarbush,  white  socks  and  yellow 
slippers  came  along  a  lower  terrace,  ducking  to 
avoid  the  branches  of  the  mulberry  trees,  and, 
climbing  up  a  wall,  drew  near  the  throng.  He  car- 
ried in  his  hands  a  golden-headed  cane  with  which 
he  rapped  his  way  into  the  centre  of  the  circle.  It 
was  the  Sheykh  Bakir,  the  great  man  of  the  place. 

"What  is  it,  O  our  father?"  he  asked  coolly, 
squatting  down  at  the  priest's  side,  where  room  was 
made  for  him.  Plucking  a  cigarette-case  from  the 
bosom  of  his  robe,  he  offered  of  its  contents  to 
those  near  him.  By  the  time  he  had  helped  himself 
therefrom,  and  had  obtained  a  light,  the  general 
din  of  explanation  had  subsided  and  he  could  hear 
what  Abu  Faris  and  the  priest  were  saying. 

"He  ought  to  promise  us  his  absolution!" 

"That  will  I  not!  The  sin  is  much  too  vile.  Nor 
is  it  lawful  to  give  absolution  to  a  man  beforehand 
except  when  holy  war  has  been  declared." 


74  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

"I  do  not  say  'beforehand.'  But  he  ought  to 
promise  to  absolve  us  of  our  guilt  from  time  to 
time  in  measure  as  it  soils  our  spirits." 

"Do  thou  decide  between  us,  O  my  lord,"  ex- 
claimed the  headman  of  the  village.  "Make  him 
be  merciful,  or  we  shall  lose  great  blessings." 

"Aye,  O  my  lord !  Be  kind !  Make  peace  between 
them,"  came  as  chorus  from  the  women  in  the  back- 
ground. 

The  handsome  youth,  to  whom  they  thus  appealed, 
smiled  pleasantly,  but  said,  "Undoubtedly  it  is  a 
sin  that  you  propose.  Our  father  is  quite  right  to 
blame  you  for  it." 

"Ha,  ha!"  exclaimed  the  priest  exultantly. 
"Have  I  not  told  you?  You  will  burn  for  ever!" 

"A  sin  is  less  in  deed  than  in  intention,"  contended 
one  of  his  opponents.  "A  sin  with  good  intentions 
is  but  half  a  crime." 

The  priest  was  whispering  with  Sheykh  Bakir. 
At  length  he  said,  with  a  malicious  grin — 

"If  you  are  true  sons  of  our  holy  Church,  if  you 
really  wish  to  be  made  clean  of  guilt,  you  will  pay 
me  two  mejidis  for  each  absolution." 

"O  Lord  Most  High,  suppose  that  one  should 
want  absolving  every  week,  I  should  be  ruined.  Be 
more  reasonable,"  moaned  Abu  Paris. 

The  priest  laughed  out.  "You  bargain  on  the 
brink  of  Hell?  Have  I  not  power  to  throw  you 
in  or  hold  you  out?  But  I  have  pity  on  your  fool- 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  75 

ishness.  Promise  to  pay  me  twenty  pounds  each 
year,  and  I  will  give  absolution  to  you  all  from 
time  to  time  as  each  requires  it — for  this  sin  and 
no  other,  be  it  understood!" 

"O  An  tun.  O  thou  evil  joker!  May  thy  house 
be  destroyed!  This  is  too  bad,"  complained  the 
headman  amid  roars  of  laughter. 

"Take  it  or  leave  it,"  said  the  priest  with  a 
broad  grin.  "That  or  hell-fire:  the  choice  is  here 
before  you." 

"Well,  we  accept,"  replied  the  headman  sadly.  "I 
guarantee  the  money  rather  than  forgo  the  Eng- 
lishwoman's benefits.  But  Allah  knows  thou  art  a 
foul  extortioner!" 

"And  Allah  knows  thou  are  a  fouler  sinner!" 
laughed  the  priest. 

"Praise  to  Allah,  that  is  settled,"  said  the  Sheykh 
Bakir. 

"Nay,  wait  a  minute!"  shouted  Abu  Faris.  "An- 
tun  must  promise  not  to  taunt  us  with  this  sin  on 
all  occasions  as  his  manner  is.  It  is  a  shame  for 
him  to  use  divine  authority  to  frighten  harmless 
people  from  their  wits " 

The  priest  transfixed  the  speaker  with  a  railing 
eye,  exclaiming — 

"Ha,  I  had  forgotten  thee.  Thou  must  pay 
something  extra,  since  thy  house  profits  before  any 
other.  Five  pounds  yearly.  Thou  canst  obtain  the 
money  from  thy  son  and  daughter  easily.  And  even 


76  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

thus,  thou  must  not  miss  a  single  fast  day,  or  ever- 
lasting fire  will  be  thy  portion." 

The  old  man  fled  into  the  background  of  the 
circle  amid  jeers.  No  other  of  the  schemers  risked 
a  protest.  The  priest,  they  knew,  was  having  jokes 
at  their  expense,  but  his  supernatural  powers,  com- 
bined with  knowledge  of  their  private  faults,  made 
joking  terrible.  Twilight  was  stealing  on.  Already 
lights  shone  in  the  village,  surrounded  with  rich 
colour  like  the  peacock's  eyes.  The  women  and 
children  had  dispersed.  There  fell  a  silence. 

Across  the  wady  came  a  tiny  thread  of  sound,  like 
a  bird's  cry  tremendously  prolonged.  The  muezzin 
of  Ai'neyn  was  calling  to  the  sunset  prayer.  Several 
of  the  Christians  crossed  themselves  and  muttered 
curses  on  the  infidel.  They  knew  that  the  muezzin's 
chant  attracted  devils. 

"Praise  Allah,  all  of  you,"  the  priest  exclaimed, 
"that  you  are  not,  as  they  are,  burdened  with  the 
sins  of  all  your  lives,  and  of  the  lives  of  all  your 
fathers  since  the  days  of  Adam.  The  power  to  remit 
sins  continually  is  the  greatest  proof  that  God  is  with 
the  Church.  The  Katuliks  pretend  to  have  it,  but 
how  can  they  truly,  being  unbaptized?  The  Brii- 
testants  and  Muslims  have  no  help  of  this  sort. 
Their  sins  increase  upon  them.  How  can  they  be 
saved?  No  Muslim  could  commit  a  sin  like  that 
which  you  propose  without  the  certainty  of  Hell 
hereafter." 

There  rose  a  murmur  of  applause.     The  audience 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  77 

was  edified.  Every  man  crossed  himself  and  ren- 
dered praise  to  God.  It  put  them  once  more  on 
good  terms  with  Antun  that  he  had  shown  them  this 
irrefragable  proof  of  true  religion. 


IX 


THE  apparent  equanimity  with  which  Elsie's 
aunts  received  the  news  of  her  resolve  to  live  at 
Deyr  Amun  and  start  some  kind  of  mission  there 
concealed  no  small  anxiety  on  her  account.  Her 
only  brother  was  in  India  with  his  regiment.  Apart 
from  him  the  two  old  ladies  were  her  nearest  rela- 
tives, and  they  were  conscious  of  responsibility  for 
her  behaviour  without  the  slightest  power  to  control 
it. 

"I  do  not  like  the  thought  of  your  living  there 
alone.  I  know  that  you  will  have  Jemileh  with  you, 
but  she  is  no  companion  for  a  girl  of  your  upbring- 
ing," hazarded  Miss  Jane  Berenger  in  tones  of 
pleasant  argument.  "I  should  be  happier  if  you 
would  join  one  of  the  missionary  societies.  They 
would  be  glad  of  a  voluntary  helper,  and  could  in- 
struct you  how  to  set  to  work  effectively." 

"I  like  that,"  answered  Elsie  with  vivacity,  "when 
you,  my  most  respected  aunts,  remain  as  independent 
as  I  hope  to  be  of  those  societies." 

"We  have  always  tried  to  work  in  with  them," 
said  Miss  Sophy,  looking  rather  pained.  "We 
have  bowed  to  their  decisions  even  when  we  thought 
them  wrong." 

78 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  79 

"I  couldn't  work  with  anything  so  lifeless !"  cried 
the  girl.  "Nothing  strikes  me  more  here  than  the 
utter  absence  of  enthusiasm — without  which  noth- 
ing can  be  done,  it  seems  to  me.  My  work,  of 
course,  will  be  quite  small  at  first,  but  I  believe  that  I 
shall  do  more  good  than  they  do." 

"I  have  no  doubt  of  your  enthusiasm,  dear.  My 
doubt  is  of  your  perseverance,"  said  Miss  Jane. 

The  two  aunts  looked  at  one  another  and  ex- 
changed a  smile.  Conscious  of  their  own  incom- 
petence, and  yet  desirous  that  some  one  with  author- 
ity should  talk  to  Elsie,  they  went  to  call  upon  the 
British  Consul  secretly  while  the  subject  of  mis- 
giving was  out  riding  one  hot  morning.  They 
wished  to  spare  the  child  the  pain  of  disillusionment, 
which  they  thought  would  be  the  outcome  of  her  mis- 
sionary scheme.  Let  her  live  at  Deyr  Amun,  by  all 
means,  if  it  pleased  her,  for  a  time. 

The  Consul  ruffled  up  his  hair  distractedly. 
"Why  can't  you  pack  her  off  to  where  she  came 
from?  Why  can't  she  fall  in  love  and  marry?"  he 
exclaimed  in  accents  of  despair.  "Any  missionary's 
bad  enough,  but  an  independent  lady  missionary 
(you'll  excuse  me)  is  the  very  deuce!  I  acted  con- 
sul at  Jerusalem  for  just  six  months,  and  had 
enough  of  independent  lady  missionaries  for  a  life- 
time. They  do  no  end  of  mischief,  set  the  natives 
by  the  ears,  all  with  the  best  intention  in  the  world. 
It's  no  use  talking  to  them  any  more  than  to  a 
lunatic." 


80  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

The  ladies  listened  to  this  outburst  with  indulgent 
smiles.  The  goodness  of  the  speaker's  heart  was 
known  to  them. 

"But  we  ourselves  are  independent  lady  mission- 
aries, so  you  can't  expect  us  to  agree  with  you," 
remarked  Miss  Jane. 

"My  dear  Miss  Berenger!  You  never  were  a 
firebrand,  were  you?  You  and  Miss  Sophia  never 
caused  a  riot  in  a  city,  or  stirred  up  tribes  to  kill 
their  neighbours  or  burn  villages.  That  is  the  sort 
of  thing  the  women  I  complain  of  do  continually — 
always  with  the  best  intentions,  as  I  said  before." 

"We  really  are  extremely  worried  about  Elsie," 
sighed  Miss  Sophy. 

"Well,  I  must  try  and  have  a  word  with  her,"  the 
Consul  said. 

The  little  English  colony  possessed  a  tennis  club, 
whose  members  met  in  the  late  afternoons  upon  a 
tolerable  patch  of  sward,  hedged  round  with  roses, 
and  partly  shaded  by  the  fruit-trees  of  adjoining 
orchards.  The  court  lay  well  outside  the  city,  whose 
old  ruined  walls,  with  little  flat-roofed  dwellings 
built  upon  them,  and  two  aspiring  minarets  beyond, 
were  seen  from  thence.  That  afternoon  there  was 
the  usual  gathering  in  this  pleasaunce,  with  the 
addition  of  a  dark-skinned  youth  in  spotless  flannels, 
a  tie  of  many  brilliant  colours,  and  a  ribbon  of 
the  same  about  his  new  straw  hat,  whom  the  mission- 
aries addressed  as  Percy,  seeming  pleased  to  see  him. 
It  was  in  fact  the  son  of  the  Khawajah  Yusuf,  as 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  81 

Elsie  soon  discovered,  for  the  portly  scripture- 
reader  introduced  him  to  her  with  much  ceremony. 
The  young  man  was  exceedingly  polite,  but  she  dis- 
liked him  because  he  spoke  with  a  strong  Yankee 
accent,  using  "You  bet"  instead  of  "Yes"  as  an  affir- 
mative, and  seemed  inclined  to  dance  attendance  on 
her.  She  was  grateful  when  the  Consul  came  and 
rescued  her,  inviting  her  to  take  a  walk  with  him 
among  the  gardens. 

"What  is  this  I  hear  about  your  turning  mission- 
ary? It  can't  be  true,"  he  said  abruptly,  when  they 
were  alone. 

"It's  true,"  said  Elsie,  with  a  smile  and  blush. 
"Have  you  any  objection?" 

"Well,  what  do  you  hope  to  do?  There's  nothing 
useful  to  be  done  out  here,  and  Heaven  knows 
there's  plenty  to  be  done  at  home.  Whatever 
possessed  our  people  to  send  missionaries  here  at  all, 
I  can't  imagine — one  understands  the  French  and 
Germans  doing  it  for  a  political  move — unless  it  was 
to  teach  us  consuls  patience.  It's  a  pleasant  coun- 
try if  you  like  adventure.  You  can  keep  a  horse 
here  and  enjoy  full  leisure  cheaper  than  you  could 
at  home.  But,  then,  why  call  yourself  a  missionary? 

"Now,  I'm  going  to  talk  very  straight  to  you. 
I'm  old  enough  to  be  your  father,  and  I  stand  in 
loco  parentis  to  every  British  subject  in  this  place, 
your  aunts  included.  This  is  what  will  happen. 
You'll  settle  up  at  Deyr  Amun  and  all  the  riff-raff 
of  the  native  churches  will  hang  round  you  for  their 


82  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

bread  and  butter.  You'll  start  a  school  and  educate 
them  much  above  their  station,  making  them  bump- 
tious and  unpleasant  to  their  neighbours." 

"I  shall  do  nothing  of  the  sort,"  retorted  Elsie. 
"If  you  want  to  know,  I  mean  to  work  among  the 
Muslims." 

"Good  Lord!"  exclaimed  the  Consul,  with  a 
frantic  gesture — and  paused,  with  head  dropped  for- 
ward, as  if  robbed  of  speech.  She  looked  offended. 
Presently  he  raised  his  head  and  went  on  speaking, 
staring  straight  before  him:  "And  then  you'll  get 
stoned,  perhaps  killed;  and  I  shall  have  to  bully  the 
authorities  for  compensation  for  what,  after  all, 
will  have  been  your  own  mad  fault.  What  harm 
has  any  Muslim — or  for  the  matter  of  that,  any 
British  consul  either — ever  done  you  that  you  should 
think  of  perpetrating  such  a  deed  as  this?" 

"I  don't  understand  you.  The  Muslims  have  per- 
secuted and  oppressed  the  Christians  for  centuries. 
They  have  robbed  them,  massacred  them 

"Stop  a  minute !  Just  you  go  round  the  country 
to  the  different  villages,  and  then  come  back  and 
tell  me  where  you  found  most  evidence  of  wealth 
and  comfort — among  the  Muslims  or  among  the 
Christians !  The  Christians  are  exempt  from  mili- 
tary service  which  continually  decimates  the  Muslim 
population.  They  are  cockered  up  and  educated 
by  the  various  missions,  backed  up  by  the  foreign 
consuls.  There  is  far  more  want  and  wretchedness 
among  the  Muslims." 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  83 

"All  the  more  reason  one  should  go  to  them." 

"What  can  you  do?  You  must  be  very  con- 
ceited if  you  think  that  you,  a  mere  girl  fresh  from 
England,  will  succeed  where  people  of  experience 
acknowledge  failure.  The  Muslims — even  the  very 
poorest  of  them — are  extremely  proud.  Their  pride 
is  practically  all  that  is  now  left  to  them.  Like  all 
proud  people,  being  in  misfortune,  their  one  desire 
is  to  be  left  alone.  Your  preaching — the  preaching 
of  an  unveiled  woman  of  the  people  they  regard  as 
enemies — will  seem  an  insult  to  them.  They  may 
avenge  it;  and  then  what  bitter  outcry  for  their 
wholesale  punishment!  Will  it  be  their  fault  or 
yours  ?  Answer  me,  as  a  gentlewoman !" 

"I  don't  agree  with  you  at  all,"  said  Elsie  lamely, 
with  her  face  averted.  "And  I  really  don't  know 
why  you  talk  like  this.  I  am  hardly  the  courageous 
person  that  you  seem  to  think  me.  My  efforts  to 
do  good  will  be — well,  tentative.  I  mean  I  shall  do 
nothing  till  I  know  my  ground." 

The  Consul  sent  a  note  that  evening  to  Miss 
Berenger,  informing  her  of  his  success. 


THE  Sheykh  Bakir  of  Deyr  Amun  was  no  fanatic. 
Being  young  and  deeply  interested  in  the  passing 
scene,  he  viewed  religious  controversy  from  a  cheer- 
ful distance.  He  knew,  of  course,  that  the  belief 
in  which  he  had  been  born  was  the  correct  one;  but 
the  presence  of  the  others  in  the  world  did  not  annoy 
him,  nor  did  he  bear  the  least  ill-will  towards  their 
followers.  His  family  had  always  been  on  good 
terms  with  the  Turks,  who  recognized  its  chieftain- 
ship among  the  Christian  mountaineers ;  many  of  his 
forebears  had  held  high  positions  in  the  Turkish 
Government,  and  he  himself,  though  young,  was  a 
mudir,  with  jurisdiction  over  Deyr  Amun  and  two 
adjacent  villages.  He  could  not  feel  that  bitter 
hatred  of  the  Muslim  which  rankled  in  the  breasts 
of  other  Christians.  He  had  heard  his  grandfather 
declare  that  this  was  something  new,  the  bad  result 
of  foreign  interference.  Before  the  Muscovites  and 
Franks  began  their  meddling,  the  old  gentleman  had 
been  wont  to  say,  Christians  and  Muslims  under- 
stood each  other  and  were  better  neighbours.  And 
Bakir,  as  he  rode  abroad  on  his  blood  mare,  re- 
ceiving the  salute  of  all  and  sundry  in  response  to 
his  frank  smile,  did  not  consider  them  bad  neigh- 
bours even  now. 

184 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  85 

Having  been  to  a  Roman  Catholic  college  to 
learn  French,  to  a  Protestant  institution  to  learn 
English,  he  did  not  share  the  horror  which  those 
heresies  inspired  in  theologians.  A  lazy,  easy-tem- 
pered lad,  he  had  always  found  himself  in  tacit 
opposition  to  instructors  who  essayed  to  drive  him. 
But  experience  had  taught  him  that  in  all  religions 
there  were  joyous  human  creatures  like  himself — 
good  fellows  who  preferred  their  ease  to  drudgery; 
and  such  human  creatures,  even  though  they  might 
be  heathens,  he  deemed  more  truly  of  one  faith  with 
him  than  any  masters  or  instructors  whatsoever, 
though  of  perfect  orthodoxy. 

Civilization,  education  and  the  ways  of  Europe, 
for  which  the  common  Christians  clamoured  as  a 
means  to  distance  the  Mahometans,  impressed  him 
as  a  poor  delusion.  He  had  tried  that  way  and  knew 
that  it  entailed  a  great  deal  of  discomfort  in  the 
shape  of  too  much  hurry,  too  much  work.  One 
thing  only  in  the  European  system  still  attracted 
him,  and  that  was  the  free  intercourse  between  the 
sexes.  In  this  respect  the  Prankish  way  of  living 
had  manifest  advantages  for  eager  youth,  which 
craves  temptation  as  a  flower  craves  sunlight,  but 
loves  not  the  pursuit  of  sordid  vice.  Yet  he  did  not 
in  his  conscience  judge  it  better  than  the  Oriental 
system,  to  which  he  thought  a  wise  man  would  return 
at  marriage.  Occasionally  he  had  dreamed  of  see- 
ing Europe,  but  the  project  was  no  more  than  an 
amusing  dream.  He  had  the  faith  of  a  contented 


86  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

youth  that  all  good  things  would  come  to  him  with- 
out fatigue,  and  the  coming  of  a  young  and  lovely 
English  lady  to  his  village  tended  to  confirm  him  in 
that  simple  faith.  Other  Frankish  ladies  would  be 
sure  to  visit  her;  and  he,  the  one  polite,  important 
person  in  the  place,  would  get  to  know  them.  The 
missionary  errand  of  Miss  Wilding  he  did  not  take 
seriously. 

"Allah  knows,  our  priest  is  very  clever — may  his 
house  be  destroyed!"  he  remarked  one  morning  to 
Abdullah  Shukri,  his  body-servant  and  inseparable 
companion.  "He  does  not  really  feel  the  slightest 
apprehension  that  this  Englishwoman  will  seduce 
men  from  the  Church.  All  the  fuss  he  made  about 
her  coming  yesterday,  threatening  to  excommunicate 
quite  half  the  village,  was  but  a  ruse  to  get  a  little 
money,  and  frighten  some  who  have  neglected  their 
religious  duties.  It  pleases  me  to  think  that  she  is 
coming,  and  I  shall  do  my  best  to  make  her  stay 
agreeable.  Indeed,  I  side  with  Hanna  and  old  Abu 
Faris  rather  than  with  Antun,  though  I  took  his 
part  against  them  in  the  argument." 

"Our  father  has  intelligence,  by  Allah,"  replied 
Abdullah  Shukri,  with  a  chuckle.  "He  knew  that 
they  would  try  to  keep  the  profit  to  themselves  and 
so  took  toll  of  them  on  public  grounds.  The  right 
is  with  him,  as  I  see  the  matter.  Old  Abu  Faris  is 
a  proper  rogue,  and  so — in  secret  be  it  said — is  our 
respected  headman.  It  were  better  for  the  lady  to 
take  up  with  men  of  honour  like  Your  Highness  and, 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  87 

I  say  it  boldly,  like  our  father  Antun.  The  priest 
is  sly  against  the  sly,  and  clever  with  the  rogues,  but 
he  would  never  stoop  to  wrong  the  helpless." 

"There  is  much  in  what  thou  sayest,"  yawned  the 
Sheykh  Bakir. 

This  conversation  took  place  in  the  young  man's 
bedroom  ere  he  rose  to  dress.  Abdullah,  bringing 
in  his  cup  of  coffee,  always  squatted  by  the  bed 
and  talked  awhile.  Bakir  lay  on  his  back,  with 
hands  behind  his  head  upon  the  pillow.  The  empty 
coffee-cup  was  on  the  tray  the  servant  held. 

"Is  there  any  one  outside?"  inquired  Bakir. 

"There  is  the  steward  of  Your  Honour's  property 
at  Suk  Harir,  with  Butrus,  Saba  and  Habib,  the 
usual  crew." 

"Bring  the  water  for  my  washing.  I  will  join 
them  presently." 

While  the  young  sheykh  was  dressing  with  his 
servant's  help,  he  flung  back  the  wooden  shutters 
from  a  little  window  at  the  head  of  the  bed,  placed 
there  for  ventilation,  not  for  light.  The  room  was 
at  once  freshened  with  the  morning  breeze,  and  he 
could  see  across  a  gully  fledged  with  fruit-trees,  a 
red-roofed  house  upon  an  eminence,  half-hidden  by  a 
clump  of  umbrella  pines. 

"We  shall  go  up  there  shortly.  Saddle  the  mare," 
he  told  Adbullah  Shukri. 

After  talking  for  ten  minutes  to  the  man  from 
Suk  Harir,  the  Sheykh  Bakir  went  out  and  mounted 
his  bay  mare.  Attended  by  Abdullah  Shukri,  on  a 


88  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

coal-black  stallion,  and  about  a  score  of  other  per- 
sons, some  on  foot,  some  mounted,  including  the 
steward  of  the  Suk  Harir  estate,  who  rode  a  tall 
white  donkey,  he  set  off  down  a  steep  and  stony  path, 
meandering,  like  the  watercourse  it  was  in  winter, 
between  banks  surmounted  by  rough  garden-walls 
and  overhung  by  fruit-trees.  The  road  plunged 
down  into  a  little  glen,  then  climbed  up  roundabout 
with  many  zigzags,  many  branchings,  till  it  came 
out  on  the  terrace  of  the  Englishwoman's  house. 
Here  the  horses  were  tied  up  beneath  the  pine-trees, 
and  Bakir,  attended  faithfully  by  all  his  court,  went 
on  into  the  house,  of  which  the  door  stood  open. 
Inside  was  the  whole  clan  of  Abu  Faris,  the  women 
cleaning  out  the  rooms  and  scrubbing  floors,  bare- 
footed children  playing  everywhere,  while  Abu  Faris 
himself,  his  brothers,  and  his  grown-up  nephews, 
looked  on  and  smoked,  and  spat  from  time  to  time. 
Chairs  were  placed  for  the  young  nobleman  and  his 
led  captains,  while  the  humbler  crowd  sat  round 
upon  their  heels. 

"When  does  the  Sitt  arrive?"  inquired  Bakir  with 
interest. 

"After  two  days,  if  God  wills,  O  my  lord.  Some 
beds  and  other  furniture  arrive  to-day." 

"Why  does  she  trouble  to  buy  things?"  exclaimed 
the  well-born  youth  impatiently.  "Have  I  not  fur- 
nished houses  which  I  never  use?  Let  her  but  men- 
tion her  requirements,  I  will  send  the  things.  Where 
was  thy  mind,  O  Abu  Faris,  not  to  think  of  me  ?" 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  89 

The  father  of  Jemileh  smiled,  beseeching  pardon; 
but  his  eyes  were  furtive  and  the  puckers  of  his 
mouth  expressed  despair.  He  resented  the  cool  tone 
of  the  young  lord,  as  if  the  English  Sitt  and  her 
arrival  had  been  his  concern.  He  resented  this 
intrusion  of  the  laughing  crowd.  He  offered  coffee, 
thinking  they  would  then  depart.  But  they  did 
nothing  of  the  kind.  Bakir  walked  up  and  down  the 
house,  examined  every  room  and  piece  of  furniture, 
and  stopped  at  every  window  to  admire  the  view.  It 
was  past  noon  when  the  gay  crowd  went  out  again 
on  to  the  terrace,  and  then  Bakir  proclaimed  his 
will  to  lunch  there. 

He  sent  a  nephew  of  old  Abu  Faris  running  to  the 
cookshop  half-a-mile  away.  The  messenger  re- 
turned much  sooner  than  he  was  expected,  accom- 
panied by  the  sheykh  of  the  village,  who  had  met  him 
on  the  way  and,  hearing  that  the  Sheykh  Bakir  was 
on  his  property,  came  now  to  claim  the  great  one  as 
his  honoured  guest.  The  sheykh  of  the  village,  the 
official  headman,  had  been  a  servant  to  the  father 
of  the  Sheykh  Bakir. 

"May  thy  wealth  increase,  O  Hanna,"  cried  the 
youth.  "Thou  wast  ever  the  lord  of  kindness.  Ex- 
tend thy  kindness  further,  I  beseech  thee;  join  us  at 
the  meal." 

"To  hear  is  to  obey,"  replied  the  headman, 
already  on  his  way  to  fetch  the  food.  Old  Abu 
Faris  went  with  him  to  help.  He  whispered — 

"Curse  the  father  of  that  ass.     He  talks  as  if  the 


90  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

Sitt  were  his  of  right!  .  .  .  Allah!  Allah!  .  .  . 
Plow  to  drive  him  off!" 

"Fear  nothing,"  answered  Hanna.  "He  is  not  a 
schemer.  The  behaviour  that  thou  blamest  is  in- 
herent in  him,  coming  of  so  high  a  family." 

The  luncheon  was  not  over  when  three  camels 
came  in  sight,  bringing  the  new  furniture.  Bakir 
and  his  attendants  must  needs  stay  to  watch  the 
business  of  unloading. 

It  was  the  same  upon  the  next  day  and  the  next, 
though  after  the  first  visit  the  young  lord  had 
luncheon  brought  from  his  own  house.  The  presence 
of  the  Sheykh  Bakir  attracted  every  idler  in  the 
village.  On  the  evening  when  the  Sitt  at  length 
arrived,  the  space  before  her  house  was  packed  with 
sightseers  and  a  score  of  horses  were  tied  up  along 
the  boundary  wall.  It  was  with  a  glow  of  triumph 
that,  upon  a  whisper  from  Jemileh,  old  Abu  Faris 
strode  among  the  crowd,  proclaiming:  "The  Sitt  is 
tired  after  her  long  journey.  Her  desire  is  privacy. 
She  bids  you  to  withdraw  immediately." 

By  the  coming  of  that  blessed  lady  he  had  gained 
a  voice  of  high  authority  which  none  had  ever  heard 
from  him  before.  His  brow  had  donned  a  new 
severity.  The  crowd  dispersed  with  sympathetic 
murmurs. 

But  on  the  morrow,  long  before  the  Sitt  was  up, 
when  Abu  Faris  came  up  with  his  donkey,  bringing 
water  from  the  spring,  he  found  the  platform  once 
more  thick  with  people  squatting  or  reclining;  and, 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  91 

even  as  he  looked  upon  them  with  a  dubious  eye,  the 
Sheykh  Bakir  and  all  his  company  arrived  on  horse- 
back. 

"Bring  chairs  out  here  for  us,  O  Abu  Faris," 
cried  the  noble  youth  as  he  dismounted.  "We  will 
await  the  levee  of  the  Sitt." 

"Allah  cut  short  thy  life  and  curse  thy  father," 
thought  the  old  fellah.  "Am  I  thy  father's  slave, 
or  what,  to  do  thy  bidding  always  ?"  Aloud  he  said, 
"I  will  inquire,  my  lord." 

Tying  up  his  ass,  he  went  indoors. 

"The  youth  is  rich  and  powerful,"  replied  Jemileh 
to  his  grumbling.  "It  will  not  do  for  us  to  anger 
him.  Take  out  some  chairs." 

"He  treats  me  like  a  dog,"  the  old  man  growled. 

"What  matter?"  laughed  Jemileh.  "His  coming 
hither  with  this  mighty  concourse  proclaims  aloud 
the  honour  of  our  lady,  which  is  ours." 

The  old  man  hung  about  the  house,  disconsolate. 
At  the  fourth  hour  of  the  day  Jemileh  came  to  him 
in  great  distress.  By  then  the  space  before  the 
house  was  covered  with  a  crowd  whose  murmur  could 
be  heard  through  all  the  house.  Horses  stamped 
and  neighed.  Some  girls  were  singing  to  the  beat 
of  little  drums. 

"What — what  are  we  to  do  ?"  Jemileh  cried.  "My 
lady  is  but  now  awake  and  very  cross.  She  heard 
the  noise  and  looked  out  of  the  window.  She  says 
the  land  is  hers  and  must  be  private.  No  one  must 
come  who  has  not  business  at  the  house.  If  people 


92  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

wish  to  visit  her,  she  says,  they  must  come  hither 
in  the  afternoon,  and  singly,  not  in  crowds.  She 
orders  me  to  drive  them  all  away.  How  can  I  do 
so?  It  will  seem  an  insult.  Before  a  man  so  high 
in  honour  as  the  Sheykh  Bakir!"  Hot  tears 
streamed  down  her  cheeks.  She  wrung  her  hands. 

"Fear  not!    Leave  all  to  me!"  said  Abu  Faris. 

He  thereupon  went  out  and  shouted  to  the  nearest 
of  the  crowd,  mere  children — 

"Yallah !  Get  you  gone !  This  land  is  the  Sitt's 
property.  She  orders  you  to  go  away,  and  give 
her  quiet."  He  went  on  through  the  crowd,  repeat- 
ing his  request  in  terms  adapted  to  the  divers  per- 
sons. When  no  one  made  a  move  he  feigned  great 
anguish,  crying  that  the  lady  willed  it,  and  that  he, 
her  servant,  would  be  punished  if  they  did  not  go. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  cried  the  Sheykh  Bakir, 
whom  Abu  Faris  in  his  tour  had  not  approached. 

"I  grieve  profoundly,  O  most  gracious  Highness," 
whined  the  old  fellah.  "Behold  me  but  a  servant 
under  orders.  In  the  Sitt's  name  I  have  to  ask 
Your  Highness  with  all  this  concourse  to  depart  at 
once,  and  not  again  to  throng  her  ground  without 
permission.  The  Lord  forgive  me!  She  is  but  a 
Frank,  a  stranger  to  our  ways." 

"Will  not  the  Sitt  see  visitors?" 

"I  cannot  say,  O  Excellency.  Doubtless  she  will 
receive  visits  at  her  gracious  pleasure.  My  duty 
now  is  to  entreat  you  to  withdraw.  Her  wish  at 
present  is  for  privacy." 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  93 

"It  is  hers  to  command,"  replied  Bakir  agreeably. 
Abdullah  Shukri  ran  to  fetch  the  horses.  "After 
her  journey  she  is  doubtless  weary.  Present  to  her 
my  salutations,  I  beseech  thee." 

"To  hear  is  to  obey,"  said  Abu  Faris  grimly. 
"At  present  I  must  ask  you  to  withdraw." 

The  common  crowd  by  then  was  moving  off  with 
awestruck  murmurs.  Old  Abu  Faris  stood  and 
watched  the  Sheykh  Bakir  and  his  attendant  mount 
and  ride  away,  the  young  lord  putting  his  bay  mare 
through  all  her  paces  as  they  passed  the  windows. 
He  gave  a  cackle  in  his  throat  and  muttered — 

"Praise  to  Allah !" 


XI 


THE  hope  of  blessed  privacy  had  been  with  Elsie 
when  she  left  the  city  and  rode  up  to  Deyr  Amun. 
She  was  all  the  more  annoyed  to  find  a  crowd  await- 
ing her  on  what  she  now  considered  her  own  private 
ground.  She  bade  Jemileh  tell  the  trespassers  to  go 
away.  But  when  next  morning  she  awoke  to  hear 
the  murmur  of  as  great  a  multitude  and,  peeping 
from  her  bedroom  window,  saw  the  people  waiting, 
she  grew  downright  angry.  There  were  mules  and 
horses  tethered  to  the  wall  where  she  intended  to 
put  flowering  plants,  men,  women  and  children  were 
sitting  as  of  right  all  over  her  front  garden,  and 
men  were  actually  going  round  selling  refreshments 
as  in  public  places.  The  gathering  was  picturesque, 
a  very  flower-bed,  but  she  could  not  see  its  beauty 
on  her  private  land.  At  her  command,  conveyed  to 
them  by  Abu  Faris,  the  multitude  indeed  dispersed. 
But  certain  groups  remained  to  be  got  rid  of 
separately;  and  all  day  long  fresh  parties  kept 
arriving  with  intent  to  settle  down  before  the  house. 

"You  do  not  understand,  Miss  Elsie!"  wailed 
Jemileh,  after  she  had  been  sent  out  after  tres- 
passers, as  Elsie  called  them,  for  the  twentieth  time. 
"It  is  their  custom  and  they  mean  it  as  a  combli- 

94 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  95 

ment.  They  come  like  that  before  the  houses  of 
imbortant  beeble  such  as  brinces,  bishobs  and  tax- 
gatherers.  I  don't  know  what  you  mean  by  tres- 
bassers.  These  beeble  do  no  sin,  they  make  no 
damage.  In  this  country  no  one  minds  the  beeble 
coming.  It  hurts  their  feelings  that  you  tell  them 
'Go  away!'" 

"I  am  sorry,"  was  Miss  Wilding's  firm  reply. 
"But  I  cannot  have  them  coming  in  my  garden." 

"All  right.  I'll  tell  them.  But  they'll  think  it 
strange,"  muttered  Jemileh  very  grudgingly. 

But  in  spite  of  all  that  she  could  do,  in  spite  of 
her  repeated  stern  commands  and  most  indignant 
pleading,  fresh  "trespassers"  appeared  continually. 
Returning  from  an  argument  with  a  whole  family 
party,  which  had  come  up  with  two  camels  and  a 
donkey,  and  begun  unloading  provisions,  cooking 
utensils,  even  bedding,  on  the  terrace  with  a  view 
to  camp  there,  she  announced — 

"They  come  from  Mar  Yuhanna,  a  whole  day 
from  here.  They  bring  you  bresents — honey  and 
fine  raiment.  They  wish  so  much  to  see  you  and  to 
ask  your  fafour.  It  seems  a  shame  to  tell  them  'go 
away,'  like  that,  as  if  they  was  rude  beeble.  Will 
you  not  go  and  sbeak  some  words  to  them?  They 
bring  you  bresents  from  their  country — wine  and 
honey  and  some  bretty  needlework." 

Elsie,  for  once,  was  moved  to  be  more  gracious. 
But  the  news  that  she  had  honoured  certain 
strangers  ran  like  wildfire  through  the  village,  and 


96  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

in  an  hour  the  eager  crowd  was  back  again.  When 
Jemileh  came  for  orders  how  to  deal  with  them,  say- 
ing reproachfully,  "You  see!  They  do  not  under- 
stand though  I  haf  told  them,"  the  Englishwoman 
pressed  her  throbbing  temples  with  both  hands. 

"Tell  them,"  she  murmured  wearily,  "that  I  am 
willing  to  see  visitors  each  afternoon  at  certain  hours 
— say  four  to  six." 

"That  is  only  for  imbortant  beeble,"  said  Jemileh, 
with  an  obstinate  protrusion  of  her  underlip.  "How 
about  the  boor  ones  what  you  would  not  care  to 
haf  for  friends?  You  had  better  get  it  ofer  now 
for  always." 

"Oh,  I'll  do  anything  you  like,  to  get  rid  of 
them." 

Jemileh  ran  to  organize  the  great  reception. 
Elsie  had  a  headache  and  would  rather  have  been 
left  alone.  However,  when  Jemileh  came  to  say  that 
all  was  ready,  she  went  down  to  the  entrance  hall, 
now  packed  with  men,  while  other  men  with  the  horde 
of  women  and  children  peeped  from  the  terrace 
through  the  open  door. 

"Say  what  you  think  right  for  me,"  she  told 
Jemileh,  who  thereupon  embarked  upon  a  speech 
of  welcome  and  unbounded  patronage,  which  roused 
applause.  Jemileh's  mother  and  another  woman 
brought  in  trays  with  cups  of  coffee  which  they 
handed  round.  If  all  that  crowd  were  to  be  served 
with  coffee  the  rite  bade  fair  to  be  interminable. 
"Can't  I  go  away  now?"  inquired  Elsie  in  a  whisper. 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  97 

"Yes,  that's  all  right,"  replied  Jemileh,  "I'll  just 
tell  them."  She  spoke  a  word  or  two.  The  whole 
room  rose  while  Elsie  made  a  hurried,  not  ungraceful 
exit. 

After  that  there  was  no  throng  upon  the  terrace, 
but  individuals  occasionally  strolled  there,  always 
to  Elsie's  bitter  indignation.  And  in  accordance 
with  Jemileh's  proclamation  that  Elsie  would  see 
persons  of  distinction  in  the  afternoon,  a  score  of 
worthies  called  upon  Miss  Wilding,  among  them 
the  young  Sheykh  Bakir. 

"I  isbeak  English.  I  am  fery  habby  that  you 
come  to  lif  in  this  beastly  hole.  I  luf  you  awf'ly  and 
wish  to  know  you,"  was  the  noble  youth's  first  greet- 
ing. Elsie  was  forced  to  laugh,  and,  happening  to 
meet  the  speaker's  eyes,  which  were  entirely  honest, 
she  laughed  cordially,  feeling  at  home  with  him 
thenceforward. 

She  would  have  been  very  glad  to  see  him  when 
he  called  each  day,  but  for  his  train  of  courtiers, 
among  whom  were  men  whose  tone  she  found 
offensive;  and  if  receiving  the  young  sheykh  meant 
seeing  them,  she  feared  that  she  would  have  to  close 
her  door  to  him.  This  feeling  she  confided  to  Jemi- 
leh, who,  thinking  it  a  pity  that  the  noble  youth, 
whose  company  she  valued  on  her  own  account, 
should  be  denied  the  house,  called  him  apart  one 
afternoon  as  he  was  going  out,  and  told  him  of  her 
mistress's  objection. 

"To  hear  is  to  obey,"  exclaimed  Bakir  in  great 


98  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

surprise.  "By  Allah,  she  is  right.  My  friends  are 
pigs." 

He  had  given  no  thought  to  his  adherents  until 
now,  nor  questioned  the  inherent  right  of  every  one 
who  wished  to  do  so  to  bear  him  company.  But 
now  that  his  attention  had  been  called  to  them, 
he  saw  that  they  left  much  to  be  desired.  Forth- 
with he  told  them  his  opinion  frankly,  to  the  rapture 
of  Abdullah  Shukri,  who  abhorred  those  sycophants. 

"Ha,  ha !"  cried  one,  an  ancient  rogue  by  name 
Mansur,  who  wore  his  tarbush  at  a  rakish  angle 
and  sat  his  sorry  nag  with  a  grand  air.  "The  lady 
grants  thee  favours.  She  will  welcome  thee  alone. 
By  Allah,  thou  art  fortunate,  O  sly  one!" 

"Be  silent!"  cried  Bakir,  with  more  of  anger  than 
any  of  those  present  could  remember  to  have  seen 
him  show  in  all  his  life  before.  "This  Englishwoman 
is  my  sister;  dost  thou  understand?  Speak  thus  of 
her  again,  I  will  destroy  thee!" 

"Forgiveness,  O  my  lord.  I  did  but  jest,  by 
Allah.  God  knows  that  I  revere  the  lady  above  all 
the  world." 

A  hush  of  awe  descended  on  the  servile  group. 

That  declaration  of  the  Sheykh  Bakir,  reported 
far  and  wide,  sufficed  to  check  a  tendency  which  had 
begun  to  show  itself  among  the  swaggerers  of  Deyr 
Amun  to  treat  the  Englishwoman  as  fair  game,  and 
be  familiar  in  behaviour  both  to  her  and  to  Jemileh. 

The  young  sheykh  came  alone  to  call  on  Elsie. 

"You're  right,"  he  told  her.    "My  friends  are  fery 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  99 

damned  disgustin'  fellows.     I  nefer  thought  of  them 
like  that  before." 

"You  must  not  use  such  dreadful  language!"  she 
entreated. 

"Why,  what's  up?  That's  how  the  missionaries 
taught  me  in  the  English  college." 

"No,  no !    I'm  sure  they  didn't." 

"Well,  maybe  it  were  the  other  scholars  that  in- 
form me  of  it.  You  teach  me  to  talk  brober.  I  luf 
you,  miss,  and  I  do  all  I  can  on  mortal  earth  to 
blease  you." 

He  settled  himself  comfortably  on  the  wide  divan. 

Elsie  saw  in  him  a  subject  for  reform.  It  was, 
besides,  a  great  relief  to  her  to  talk  in  English. 
Though  she  studied  Arabic  her  stock  of  words  was 
limited,  and  apt  to  vanish  from  her  memory  at  times 
of  need.  Her  progress  in  the  language  was  impeded 
by  the  wish  of  everybody  to  learn  English  from 
her.  Jemileh's  brother  had  begun  to  babble  English 
phrases,  and  even  Abu  Paris,  when  she  greeted  him 
in  Arabic,  would  answer  "Gud-a-day !"  or  "Hau- 
di-du !" 

On  her  first  Sunday  at  Deyr  Amun  Elsie  read  the 
morning  and  evening  service  in  her  own  room  with 
Jemileh ;  but  before  the  second  Sunday  came  Jemi- 
leh  told  her,  "Some  of  the  beeble  wish  to  come  and 
bray,"  and  suggested  that  it  would  be  nice  to  "haf 
a  hymn  or  two." 

There  was  an  old  and  sadly  out-of-tune  piano  in 
the  house,  part  of  the  furniture  which  the  proprietor 


100  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

had  bought  and  placed  there.  It  ended  in  old  Abu 
Faris  and  his  family,  even  to  his  eldest  brother's 
youngest  grandchild,  filing  bare-foot  into  the  big 
entrance-hall,  whither  the  piano  had  been  brought 
in  readiness,  and  standing  waiting  as  men  wait  for 
doles  of  food.  Arabic  prayer-books  and  hymn- 
books,  of  which  Elsie  had  laid  in  a  store,  were 
handed  round,  Jemileh  finding  the  right  place  for 
every  one,  and  giving  full  directions  in  a  bullying 
tone.  Then  Elsie  read  the  English  service,  in  the 
intervals  of  which  two  hymns  were  sung. 

Elsie  went  to  the  piano  and  banged  out  the  air, 
no  easy  task  since  half  the  notes  were  dumb.  She 
and  Jemileh  sang,  the  latter  very  loud  and  stri- 
dently, while  the  congregation  gave  forth  curious 
whining  noises  much  like  the  tribute  which  hounds 
pay  to  human  song. 

"You'll  say  a  few  words,  dear  Miss  Elsie,  won't 
you,  blease?"  whispered  Jemileh,  who  was  much 
excited,  keeping  a  bright  eye  on  the  flock.  Once 
she  had  cursed  her  father  when  the  old  man  had  a 
sneezing-fit — a  misfortune  which  provoked  an  alter- 
cation, Jemileh  calling  it  irreverence,  while  Abu 
Faris  swore  that  there  was  pepper  in  the  prayer- 
book,  in  which,  being  unable  to  read,  he  had  buried 
his  nose.  Once  she  had  snatched  a  cigarette  from 
one  of  her  cousins  only  just  in  time  to  stop  his  light- 
ing it.  She  had  a  sense  of  high  position  and 
authority. 

Elsie  was  coaxed  to  give  a  short  address,  which 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  101 

Jemileh  then  translated  in  loud  nasal  tones.  An- 
other hymn  was  sung  and  they  trooped  out. 

The  performance  was  repeated  in  the  afternoon, 
when  the  Sheykh  Bakir,  calling  at  his  accustomed 
hour,  took  part  in  it.  He  was  presented  with  a 
prayer-book,  and  he  held  it  open  in  his  hand,  but 
never  for  a  moment  did  he  take  his  eyes  off  Elsie. 
He  smiled  encouragement  and  nodded  when  he 
caught  her  eye,  and  sang  the  hymns  in  a  remarkable 
falsetto  voice. 

When  Elsie  gave  her  little  sermon  he  was  all 
attention,  and,  at  the  end,  when  speech  was  lawful, 
he  went  up  to  her,  exclaiming — 

"Bravo,  miss.  You  sbeak  fery  nice.  And  blay  the 
piano  too.  By  Jingo !" 

"I  wish  that  I  could  make  these  poor  people  see 
the  folly  of  their  superstitious  practices  and  serve 
the  Lord  in  spirit  and  in  truth,"  said  Elsie  gravely. 

"By  Jingo,  we  do  everything  you  wish,"  said 
Sheykh  Bakir,  who  had  that  morning,  while  he 
dressed  himself,  remembered  "Jingo"  with  a  thrill  of 
satisfaction  as  a  saint  of  power  among  the  Protes- 
tants. "You  are  so  defer  and  so  brafe.  We  nefer 
breach  and  bray  and  sing  like  that.  When  we  think 
of  God  we  fall  down  flat,  we  slab  our  face — daren't 
say  a  word,  by  Jingo.  But  you,  you're  not  afraid 
to  make  a  noise.  You  haf  a  jolly  good  song,  you 
read  this  bit  and  that  out  of  the  book,  you  kneel  and 
stand  and  sit,  amusin'  of  yourselfs." 

"Oh,  please,  you  musn't  talk  like  that !    You  quite 


102  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

mistake  us,"  pleaded  Elsie,  earnest  to  the  verge  of 
tears.  She  entered  on  a  lengthy  explanation,  detain- 
ing the  young  man  beyond  his  usual  moment  of 
departure.  The  sun  had  set  before  he  took  his  leave ; 
the  mountains  were  ash-grey  with  inky  shadows.  As 
he  rode  homeward  with  Abdullah  Shukri  he  swore  by 
Allah  that  she  was  an  angel;  having  in  truth  been 
much  affected  by  her  simple  pleading  and  child-like 
ardour  in  a  foolish  faith. 


XII 


DOWN  came  the  rain,  cutting  off  communication 
with  the  outer  world.  It  fell  not  like  separate 
arrows,  as  in  England,  but  in  sheets,  9ne  sheet  so 
close  behind  another  that  objects  at  a  little  distance 
were  invisible.  The  rustle  of  it  was  incessant  and 
monotonous ;  the  ground  steamed.  It  went  on  rain- 
ing for  four  days  and  nights. 

At  first  Miss  Wilding  felt  exhilarated;  the  change 
from  cloudless  skies,  fierce  sunlight  and  parched 
earth  was  welcome;  the  air  which  came  in  through 
an  opened  window,  smelling  of  wet  earth  and  leaves, 
refreshed  her.  But  after  forty-eight  hours  of  that 
relentless  deluge  she  repined.  The  rain  was  not  like 
English  rain.  It  could  not  be  defied.  The  terrace 
was  a  lake.  From  all  sides  came  the  thunder  of 
the  mountain  burns.  It  was  a  hardship  to  run  over 
to  the  stables,  whither  she  made  a  point  of  going 
every  day  to  see  the  horses  fed.  Old  Abu  Fans, 
covered  with  a  monstrous  sack  striped  black  and 
white,  arrived  at  the  house  in  a  state  of  exhaustion, 
after  a  walk  of  less  than  half-a-mile.  With  groans 
he  told  how  he  had  had  to  ford  a  raging  torrent 
which  was  not  composed  of  water  only,  but  also  of 
rocks,  bushes  and  the  roots  of  trees.  Elsie,  touched 

103 


104  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

by  his  devotion  in  coming  through  such  dangers, 
allowed  him  extra  wages  while  the  rain  endured.  The 
tea  gave  out,  the  sugar  also.  The  muleteer,  who 
went  into  the  city  twice  a  week,  had  taken  down  an 
order  for  those  necessaries  on  the  very  day  the  rain 
began,  and  could  not  well  return  till  it  was  over. 
The  loneliness  and  the  confinement  got  upon  Miss 
Wilding's  nerves.  She  longed  to  go  and  walk  about 
the  village,  exploring  various  objects  she  had  seen 
from  her  terrace;  though  while  the  sunshine  lasted 
they  had  not  attracted  her,  and  she  had  never 
thought  of  going  out  except  on  horseback.  She 
began  now  to  regret  what  she  had  then  disliked — the 
trespassers  upon  her  land,  the  frequent  callers.  Shut 
up  with  Jemileh,  she  began  to  notice  faults  in  the 
dark  girl's  behaviour,  small  tricks  of  manner  which 
appeared  intolerable.  Jemileh  being  in  like  manner 
irritable,  they  had  been  more  than  once  upon  the 
verge  of  quarrelling,  when  they  awoke  one  morning 
to  resplendent  sunshine  and  the  song  of  birds.  Elsie 
flung  her  bedroom  window  open  wide.  There  were 
trespassers  upon  the  terrace,  but  she  did  not  care. 
Abu  Faris,  seated  upon  the  steps  leading  up  to  the 
front  door,  was  holding  a  small  court  of  villagers, 
both  men  and  women,  who  were  on  their  way  to  work 
presumably,  since  they  carried  implements  of  agri- 
culture, but  did  not  seem  in  any  hurry  to  begin. 
They  were  still  in  the  same  place  when  Elsie,  having 
breakfasted,  went  out  to  smell  the  air.  She  walked 
to  the  far  corner  of  the  terrace,  beneath  the  clump 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  105 

of  umbrella  pines  and,  leaning  on  the  wall,  looked 
down  into  a  little  glen.  A  torrent  was  now  tumbling 
down  the  stony  bed  which  had  been  used  through  all 
the  summer  as  a  footpath.  Even  now  some  one  was 
coming  up  that  way,  picking  his  foothold  on  the  nar- 
row margin  of  dry  stones.  It  was  the  Sheykh  Bakir. 
She  waved  her  hand  to  him.  He  caught  the  signal 
and  replied  by  gestures,  which  announced  that  he 
was  on  his  way  to  visit  her. 

The  land  which  had  so  lately  been  dried  up  was 
fresh  and  green.  The  sunlight  had  acquired  a 
sparkle,  and  the  sky  above  was  dewy  bright  as  is  the 
eye  of  youth.  A  bird  was  singing  somewhere  close 
at  hand — three  notes  repeated  at  short  intervals. 
The  human  noises  of  the  village  came  to  her  upon  the 
song  of  rushing  waters. 

Bakir  at  length  arrived  and  bowed  before  her. 

"Where  is  Abdullah  Shukri?"  she  inquired  in 
Arabic. 

"He  follows  with  the  horses.  I  came  on  before  to 
ask  if  you  would  please  to  ride  this  morning." 

"Willingly,"  said  Elsie,  and,  her  Arabic  there 
failing,  added  in  English,  "it  is  such  a  splendid  day. 
Let  us  go  where  we  can  have  a  real  good  gallop !" 

"Right  you  are !"  said  Sheykh  Bakir. 

Then  Abu  Faris  and  the  group  of  villagers,  still 
on  their  way  to  work,  who  had  been  chatting  with 
him  earnestly  for  two  whole  hours,  drew  near  and 
spoke  to  the  young  lord.  All  that  Elsie  gathered 


106  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

of  their  conversation  was  Bakir's  repeated  answer: 
"It  is  not  my  business.  Ask  the  Sitt  Jemileh." 

"What  is  it?"  she  inquired. 

"Oh,  it  is  nothing.  They  are  silly  fools.  They 
only  bore  me,"  smiled  the  noble  youth. 

The  little  bird  gave  forth  its  three  notes  clearly 
from  an  apricot  tree  upon  the  terrace  just  below 
them. 

"What  bird  is  that?"  asked  Elsie,  pointing  to  it. 

"It  is  one  little  bird,"  replied  Bakir.  "You  luf 
him,  miss?" 

"I  like  it  very  much.     It  is  so  cheerful." 

Then  the  sheykh  said  something  to  a  boy  who 
squatted  near.  The  urchin  ran,  returning  in  two 
minutes  with  a  gun.  The  Sheykh  Bakir  received  the 
weapon  and  took  aim,  exclaiming  "Bismillah !" 

"Oh,  no,  no !  Don't !  I  beg  of  you !"  cried  Elsie, 
horror-stricken. 

"No  fright,  my  dear;  I  will  not  hurt  you,"  said 
the  sheykh,  whose  language  was  at  times  familiar, 
though  his  manner  never  failed  of  most  profound 
respect. 

He  fired.  The  crowd  applauded.  The  boy  jumped 
down  on  to  the  lower  terrace,  and  before  Elsie  had 
quite  realized  the  tragedy,  the  corpse  of  a  small 
greenish  bird  was  being  handed  to  her  reverently. 
"You  luf  him?  Here  he  is!  Fery  good  eatin'." 

"Oh,  no !"  said  Elsie.  "You  are  wicked !  I  won't 
have  it." 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  107 

Bakir  stared  blankly,  and  his  look  of  stupefaction 
was  reflected  on  the  face  of  every  bystander. 

"You  don't  luf  him?  Fery  good.  Then  there 
he  goes !"  The  sportsman  gave  the  little  corpse  a 
jerk  which  sent  it  flying  out  over  the  wall. 

For  Elsie,  who  detested  wantonness,  the  day  was 
spoilt.  She  said  that  she  had  changed  her  mind 
about  the  ride.  Bakir  gave  a  despairing  shrug  and 
moaned:  "I  made  you  angry.  Don't  know  why. 
One  damn  small  bird!" 

"Why  did  you  kill  it?" 

"  'Cos  you  say  you  luf  him." 

"I  liked  to  see  it  alive.  I  liked  to  hear  it  sing 
and  see  it  hop  from  twig  to  twig.  It  was  a  lovely 
thing.  And  then  you  killed  it  and  made  it  some- 
thing sad  and  ugly  which  could  never  give  me  pleas- 
ure any  more." 

"Awf'ly  sorry !"  said  Bakir.  "I  tell  you  what.  I 
send  men,  catch  you  sefral  birds — a  hundred — all 
alife.  We  but  'em  in  a  cage  and  then  you  luf  them." 

"How  would  you  like  to  be  kept  in  a  cage?"  was 
the  irate  reply,  which  seemed  so  strange  to  the 
young  nobleman  that  he  referred  it  to  the  fellahin, 
who  gasped  in  wonder  and  suggested  that  the 
Englishwoman  was  possessed  with  devils. 

Bakir,  however,  took  another  view,  remarking  to 
Abdullah  Shukri,  who  had  come  up  with  the  horses, 
"Behold  how  gentle  and  benign  she  is,  how  tender 
of  the  life  of  all  God's  creatures." 

"I  tell  you  what!"    He  turned  to  Elsie  earnestly. 


108  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

"I'll  neffer  kill  that  beasly  little  bird  again."  Elsie 
was  forced  to  smile  against  her  will.  "Well,  since 
you're  waxy,  I  must  bunk.  Good-bye.  Awf'ly 
sorry." 

Bakir,  with  an  obeisance,  was  moving  off.  But 
again  he  was  beset  by  all  those  villagers,  still  on 
their  way  to  work,  with  some  request.  Again  he 
waved  them  off,  exclaiming,  "It  is  not  my  business. 
Ask  the  Sitt  Jemileh!"  He  jumped  upon  his  horse 
and  rode  away. 

Elsie  returned  indoors.  After  a  little  while 
Jemileh  came  to  her  with  troubled  brow. 

"The  beeble  fery  sorry,  miss,  because  you'f  neffer 
been  to  see  our  village  briest  nor  yet  our  church. 
They  wish  so  much  that  you  would  go  and  see  him 
and  be  friendly.  He's  not  a  bad  man  and  they  like 
him,  and  they  like  you  too." 

"I  have  not  the  least  objection,"  said  her  mis- 
tress. "Is  it  far?  We  might  as  well  go  now,  if  you 
can  spare  the  time  to  come  with  me." 

Elsie  was  glad  of  something  to  divert  her  thoughts 
from  the  incident  of  the  small  bird,  which  had  dis- 
tressed her  out  of  measure.  From  the  window  she 
could  see  the  group  of  villagers  at  last  departing. 
The  dark  girl,  with  a  black  mantilla  on  her  head, 
white  cotton  gloves  and  a  white  frilly  parasol,  came 
presently  to  say  that  she  was  ready.  Elsie,  with 
Faris  in  attendance,  rode  on  horseback  along  narrow 
paths  between  stone  walls  of  orchards,  with  here 
and  there  a  flat-roofed  house,  and  every  few  yards 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  109 

running  water;  while  Jemileh,  Abu  Faris  and  a  few 
inquisitives  came  on  behind  on  foot.  This  walking 
group  increased  before  they  reached  the  church, 
where  the  priest  Antun  waited  to  receive  them, 
having  somehow  heard  of  their  approach.  Elsie 
disliked  his  face.  She  thought  it  villanous,  and 
fancied  that  his  jokes  in  Arabic,  which  made  Jemi- 
leh and  the  others  chuckle,  were  at  her  expense.  But 
he  was  perfectly  polite  in  manner  as  he  ushered  her 
into  the  church,  Jemileh  going  with  them  as  inter- 
preter. 

"They  are  fery  foolish  suberstitious  beeble,  they 
need  teaching,"  the  dark  girl  whispered  as  they 
passed  the  threshold. 

At  first,  on  coming  in  out  of  the  great  sunlight, 
Miss  Wilding  could  distinguish  nothing  clearly.  The 
faint  stale  smell  of  incense  vexed  her  nostrils.  It 
savoured  of  the  pit,  to  one  of  her  upbringing.  Then, 
as  her  eyes  became  accustomed  to  the  dimness,  she 
made  out  the  tawdry  gates  of  the  sanctuary,  and 
here  and  there  upon  the  walls  an  icon  of  the  crudest 
sort,  the  face  quite  black  amid  the  gilding.  She 
longed  to  get  back  to  the  open  air.  But  the  priest 
insisted  upon  showing  everything,  the  icons,  vest- 
ments, sacred  vessels  and,  greatest  treasure  of  all,  a 
reliquary  which,  Jemileh  said,  contained  "a  little 
bit  of  the  abostle  James."  Miss  Wilding  did  her 
best  to  hide  the  horror  which  she  really  felt,  glancing 
often  towards  the  doorway,  framing  a  bright  pic- 
ture of  her  own  attendants  squatting  on  the  sunlit 


110  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

terrace.  Happening  once  to  look  up  at  the  roof,  she 
gave  a  start  and  cried :  "Oh,  what  is  that?"  There, 
staring  down  at  her  with  sightless  eyes  was  a 
gigantic  picture  of  an  old  man  with  a  long  white 
beard  sprawling  on  woolly  clouds.  The  face  was 
out  of  shape  as  if  deformed  by  toothache.  The  eyes 
squinted. 

"That's  God  Almighty,  miss,"  exclaimed  Jemileh 
in  an  awe-struck  whisper. 

"How  horrible!"  cried  Elsie  from  the  bottom  of 
her  English  heart. 

"Fery  suberstitious  beeble !"  sighed  Jemileh  glibly. 
Turning  to  the  priest,  she  told  him  of  the  lady's 
horror.  Antun  gave  a  laugh  which  sounded  scornful. 

"Tell  her  it  is  not  a  photograph,"  he  sneered. 
"Assure  her  that  the  likeness  is  not  perfect.  She 
must  have  low  ideas  of  the  Most  High  to  think  it 
could  be." 

Jemileh  then  translated:  "He  says  that  it  is 
not  a  likeness,  dear  Miss  Elsie,  but  just  a  symbol 
which  these  beeble  understand — I  think  you'd  better 
gif  him  something — one  mejidi  will  be  quite  sufficient 
— for  the  boor." 

"I  don't  believe  the  poor  will  ever  see  it,"  mur- 
mured Elsie,  but  gave  it  notwithstanding. 

"I'm  glad  you'f  seen  our  tillage  briest  and  the 
church,"  said  Jemileh  when  they  got  home.  "The 
beeble  too  are  fery  glad  indeed.  That  briest  Antun 
is  not  bad,  and  the  church  is  not  bad  either,  only 
ignorant  and  boor  and  suberstitious.  If  the  beeble 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  111 

here  was  rich  they'd  soon  be  better.  Now,  Miss 
Elsie,  there's  another  thing  I  want  to  beg — "  Jem- 
ileh's  voice  grew  more  than  ever  wheedling — "The 
beeble  talk  about  it.  They  haf  the  custom  to  get 
briests  to  bless  their  houses.  This  is  quite  a  new 
house,  it  has  not  been  blessed.  They  say  that's 
fery  bad  and  means  bad  luck.  They  say,  won't  you 
let  our  briest  bless  the  house?  You  gif  him  just  a 
little  money.  He'd  make  some  silly  rubbish, 
sbrinkle  holy  water  and  say  brayers ;  but  means  no 
harm  and  all  the  beeble  will  be  bleased." 

From  the  moment  when  she  heard  that  morning 
from  the  villagers  upon  their  way  to  work  that  the 
house  in  which  she  lived  had  not  been  blessed,  Jemi- 
leh  had  been  troubled  in  her  conscience.  She  could 
not  go  on  living  in  an  unblest  house.  It  is  true  that 
she  had  lived  with  the  Misses  Berenger  for  years 
without  a  qualm,  but  then  the  question  of  the  bless- 
ing of  that  house  had  never  once  been  raised  before 
her  conscience. 

"Certainly  not,"  said  Elsie,  from  the  height  of 
horror.  "How  can  you  ask  such  a  thing?  We  are 
not  heathens." 

Jemileh  sighed.  The  peril  of  the  unblest  house 
depressed  her  visibly,  till  she  remembered  that  the 
house  and  Elsie  were  not  quite  inseparable. 

"Wait  till  you  go  into  the  city  for  a  visit,"  was 
her  thought  while  she  declared — 

"Of  course,  we  are  your  serfants.  It  is  as  you 
blease." 


XIII 

ONE  cloudy  afternoon  the  village  priest  in  full 
canonicals,  with  an  icon  borne  before  him  in  the 
hands  of  Abu  Faris,  and  a  jar  of  holy  water  carried 
by  the  village  headman,  came  to  the  Englishwoman's 
house  and  passed  from  room  to  room,  sprinkling 
the  doorposts  and  the  thresholds,  and  droning  incan- 
tations in  a  nasal  voice.  The  servants  of  the  house, 
Jemileh  and  her  family,  crossed  themselves  inces- 
santly and  sighed:  "Amin."  Miss  Wilding  was 
upon  a  visit  to  her  aunts. 

Jemileh  had  provided  a  light  meal,  of  which  the 
priest  partook  after  the  ceremony,  when  talk  ran 
on  the  lady  of  the  house  and  her  peculiarities. 

"When  she  was  in  the  church  the  other  day," 
Antun  informed  the  company  with  mouth  half  full 
of  meat  and  rice,  "she  shrank  and  trembled  before 
every  icon,  and  when  I  held  the  blessed  relic  towards 
her  she  was  seized  with  something  like  an  ague  fit. 
I  wished  to  make  her  touch  the  reliquary,  but  she 
would  not.  Had  she  touched  it,  she  would  have 
fallen  senseless  on  the  ground  and  the  devil  of  her 
unbelief  would  then  have  left  her.  As  it  was,  when 
she  caught  sight  of  God  the  Father  looking  down 
upon  her,  the  devil  in  her  gave  a  shriek  and  nearly 

112 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  113 

slew  her.  It  is  a  pity,  for,  as  a  girl,  she  is  quite 
sweet,  by  Allah!  The  cure  for  her  is  marriage  with 
some  true  believer !"  The  priest  laughed,  tossing  off 
a  glass  of  wine. 

"The  Sheykh  Bakir  desires  her,"  some  one  said. 

Jemileh  raised  her  voice  against  such  speaking. 
Her  lady,  she  would  have  them  know,  was  great 
— no  less  than  a  princess,  by  Allah !  There  was  no 
one  in  the  country  to  be  called  her  equal.  It  was 
a  shame  for  them  to  backbite  her  in  this  way,  con- 
sidering the  blessings  she  conferred  on  Deyr  Amun. 

"The  blessings,  if  there  are  any,  have  fallen  hith- 
erto upon  the  house  of  Abu  Faris  only,"  said  the 
priest.  "The  Sitt  Jemileh  promised  us  a  hospital 
and  a  dispensary,  a  school  and  other  benefits.  Have 
we  yet  seen  any  indication  that  such  things  will  be? 
What  has  she  done?  She  has  amused  herself 
throughout  the  week.  On  Sundays  she  has  gathered 
a  few  hypocrites  and  read  the  Scriptures  to  them 
without  understanding.  I  put  the  question  to  the 
Sitt  Jemileh:  When  shall  we  see  the  benefits  of 
which  she  spoke?" 

It  was  the  question  which  Jemileh  had  been  dread- 
ing for  weeks  past.  What  could  she  say?  Miss 
Wilding  did  not  mean  to  found  a  school  or  hospital, 
and  had  Jemileh  ventured  to  suggest  it,  would  have 
scorned  her. 

"It  is  very  early  yet,"  she  faltered.  "Little  by 
little,  all  you  wish  will  come  to  pass.  My  lady  has 
intelligence.  She  will  not  launch  forth  into  great 


114  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

expenses  without  due  precaution.  Nevertheless,  I 
hope,  nay,  I  am  certain — subject  to  the  will  of  Allah 
— that  in  a  little  while  you  will  see  reason  to  be  more 
content." 

"In  sh' Allah!"  said  the  priest  decidedly. 

He  rose  to  go,  and  all  the  company  rose  with  him, 
uttering  farewells.  As  they  were  pouring  forth 
upon  the  terrace,  the  Sheykh  Bakir  rode  lip,  accom- 
panied as  usual  by  Abdullah  Shukri.  He  stared  at 
the  procession  in  surprise.  Jemileh  flew  to  him  with 
cheeks  aflame. 

"The  priest  has  blessed  the  house,"  she  told  him 
rapidly.  "I  paid  the  fee  with  my  own  money,  to 
content  the  people." 

"Against  the  wishes  of  the  lady — one  so  good? 
Shame  on  thee,  O  Jemileh !  It  is  not  well  done." 

"Allah  witness,  I  have  done  it  only  for  her  sake, 
because  the  people  were  becoming  angry  and  I  feared 
for  her !"  Jemileh  pleaded,  showing  infinite  distress. 
"How  could  I  bear  to  hear  men  threaten  harm  to 
her?" 

"Why  not  have  come  to  me  ?  I  could  have  stopped 
such  talk." 

"Aye,  in  thy  presence.  But  behind  thy  back? 
For  the  love  of  thy  salvation,  promise  not  to  tell 
my  lady." 

The  Sheykh  Bakir  assented  with  a  shrug.  His 
telling  could  achieve  no  purpose,  since  the  house 
was  blest. 

"When  does  the  Sitt  return?     I  came  to  ask." 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  115 

"We  expect  her  after  noon  to-morrow,  O  my 
lord." 

Bakir  rode  off.  Jemileh  went  into  the  house  to 
smooth  and  re-arrange  her  conscience,  much  dis- 
ordered by  the  day's  events.  She  welcomed  Elsie 
with  delight  upon  the  morrow,  having  missed  her 
greatly. 

"I  am  so  glad  to  be  at  home  again !"  exclaimed 
Miss  Wilding,  as  Jemileh  helped  her  to  take  off  her 
riding-habit.  "Now  we  must  get  to  work  in  earnest. 
I  have  been  so  lazy  since  I  came  to  Deyr  Amun.  I 
have  ordered  some  Arabic  Bibles  for  our  little  con- 
gregation. We  must  hold  more  frequent  meetings, 
and  tell  the  people  all  about  the  Gospel  faith.  I  am 
sure  they  have  learnt  nothing  of  it  from  that  dread- 
ful priest.  You  say  he  never  preaches.  What 
instruction  do  they  ever  get?" 

"He  tell  them  sometimes  about  things.  And 
there's  a  book — a  kind  of  catechism." 

"Get  me  a  copy  of  that  book.  You  shall  trans- 
late it  to  me.  Then  I  shall  have  something  to  go 
on." 

Jemileh,  terrified  at  the  idea  of  an  attack  upon  the 
Orthodox  communion,  answered — 

"I  wouldn't  go  too  quick,  if  I  was  you,  Miss  Elsie. 
To  gif  them  Bibles  is  all  right.  But  don't  you  say 
too  much  about  their  silliness.  The  best  would  be 
to  start  a  school  or  a  dispensary." 

"I  know:     to  bribe  them  somehow!     I  have  seen 


116  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

enough  of  that.  I  shall  do  nothing  of  the  kind.  I 
want  real  converts." 

Miss  Wilding's  missionary  zeal,  which  had  been 
languid  when  she  set  out  for  the  city,  had  been 
inflamed  again  by  the  reception  she  had  met  there. 
Her  aunts  and  every  one  had  taken  it  for  granted 
that  she  was  living  in  the  mountains  purely  for  her 
own  amusement.  That  the  imputation  was  so  nearly 
true,  as  she  admitted  in  her  conscience  that  it  was, 
made  her  the  more  determined  to  disprove  it.  The 
Consul  had  suggested  she  should  take  to  shooting, 
saying  that  there  were  lynxes  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  Deyr  Amun.  Emineh  Khanum,  who,  as  a  black- 
shrouded  phantom,  came  to  call  on  her  one  after- 
noon, asked  questions  which  she  found  it  difficult  to 
answer,  seeming  to  think  her  way  of  life  both  mad 
and  useless.  Faced  with  the  charge  of  utter  selfish- 
ness combined  with  some  degree  of  imbecility,  she 
recognized  the  call  for  some  immediate  action.  She 
had  returned  to  Deyr  Amun  with  a  fixed  programme, 
which  Jemileh,  though  aghast  at  it,  was  made  to 
serve. 

A  meeting  which  she  called  was  well  attended. 
The  Bibles  were  distributed,  and  Elsie  gave  her  first 
address  in  Arabic,  to  the  infinite  amusement  of  the 
audience  and  Jemileh's  shame. 

"Not  bad  at  all,"  remarked  Bakir,  who  heard  the 
effort.  "After  a  year,  if  you  go  on  like  that,  you'll 
sbeak  all  right.  The  beeble  smile  a  bit,  my  dear ;  you 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  117 

mustn't  mind.  Seems  rum  for  them  to  hear  you  talk 
of  God  in  kitchen  language." 

Miss  Wilding,  charmed  with  her  success  in  get- 
ting through  the  speech  she  had  prepared  so  care- 
fully, received  Bakir's  remark  as  useful  criticism. 

"Do  please  tell  me  of  mistakes.  I  want  to  learn. 
I  am  glad  to  know  at  any  rate  that  I  was  intelli- 
gible." 

Thenceforward  she  dispensed  with  an  interpreter. 
Jemileh  helped  her  to  prepare  her  little  sermons,  and 
tried  to  put  in  words  adapted  to  the  subject — long 
words  which  Elsie  could  not  even  hear  aright. 
These  were  invariably  forgotten  by  the  speaker,  who 
would  cling  to  her  own  small  vocabulary.  Such  and 
such  a  thing  was  bad.  Such  and  such  a  thing  was 
good.  They  must  leave  the  bad  and  come  to  the 
good.  She  never  got  beyond  such  simple  phrases. 
The  priest  was  bad,  the  native  church  was  bad, 
saints  were  bad,  pictures  were  bad,  to  cross  your- 
self was  bad.  They  must  leave  them  all  and  come 
to  Christ.  The  village  thronged  to  hear  the  comic 
blasphemy,  which  all  Jemileh's  efforts  failed  to  miti- 
gate. She  was  not  surprised,  one  evening,  when  her 
father  brought  a  message  from  the  priest,  command- 
ing her  at  once  to  stop  the  scandal,  or  he  (Antun) 
would  take  measures  hostile  to  the  Englishwoman. 
Jemileh,  after  half-an-hour  of  anguish  and  despair, 
went  and  told  Elsie  what  the  priest  had  said. 

"That  shows  that  we  are  making  headway,"  said 
the  fair  girl  proudly.  "He  sees  that  we  are  bring- 


118  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

ing  in  the  light,  and  is  afraid  since  darkness  is  his 
livelihood.  Why  did  he  come  to  you  and  not  to 
me?  So  underhand!  Just  what  one  might  expect!" 

"You  would  receive  him  if  he  was  to  come?"  in- 
quired Jemileh  eagerly. 

"Why  should  I  not?     I'm  not  afraid  of  him." 

Jemileh  sent  her  brother  Faris  to  inform  the 
priest,  who  came  that  very  evening.  He  was  quite 
polite,  but  held  to  his  decision  that  the  lady's  comic 
sermons,  of  which  he  heard  so  much,  must  cease 
immediately.  The  jpeople  came  to  laugh.  It  was  not 
good  for  them,  nor  was  it  fitting  for  the  lady's  dig- 
nity. Jemileh  passed  on  his  remarks  to  Elsie,  who 
looked  fit  to  cry,  for  the  priest's  respectful  firmness 
overawed  her. 

"Well,  we  will  give  up  the  meetings  for  the 
present,  till  my  Arabic  is  better,"  she  at  last  con- 
ceded. Antun  thanked  her  and  departed. 

"That's  good,"  exclaimed  Jemileh  after  he  had 
gone.  "I  told  you  we  were  going  much  too  quick. 
You  sbeak  too  strong — much  stronger  than  you 
know.  They  hear  you  are  blaspheming,  and  that 
makes  'em  laugh,  knowing  that  you  don't  know 
what  you  say.  The  Sheykh  Bakir  he  said  to  me  he 
wished  you'd  stob  it." 

"That's  what  I  so  dislike  about  you  people !  Why 
couldn't  he  come  straight  to  me?  And  why  couldn't 
you  have  told  me  at  the  time  ?" 

"Not  bad  beeble,"  sighed  Jemileh,  with  a  sorrow- 
ful grimace,  "only  afraid  that  you'd  get  cross,  and 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  119 

think  it  imbudence.  If  you  want  to  know  what  we 
really  think:  We  think  you'd  better  start  with 
something  bobular — a  little  school  here  in  this 
house — there's  lots  of  room — where  I  could  teach 
some  children  English  in  the  mornings.  I'd  like  to 
do  it,  it  is  doing  good." 

"If  you  teach  them  anything  it  should  be  Arabic," 
said  Elsie,  not  repelling  the  suggestion  as  Jemileh 
had  expected  her  to  do.  "So  many  of  them  cannot 
read  or  write  their  language." 

"Listen,  Miss  Elsie  dear!"  Jemileh  coaxed.  "If 
they  learn  Arabic,  what  will  it  helb  them?  Who 
uses  Arabic  except  the  Muslims?  There  is  no  hobe 
for  any  Christian  child  in  Arabic.  But  if  they 
study  English,  then  they  go  to  England  or  America, 
get  civilized  and  make  much  money.  I  teach  them 
Arabic  as  well,  I  bromise  you,  though  I  don't  know 
it  well  except  the  common  sort.  But  no  children 
would  be  sent  if  we  taught  only  Arabic." 

"I've  no  objection  to  your  teaching  a  few  children, 
if  you  like.  I  think  it's  very  good  of  you,"  Miss 
Wilding  murmured. 

Jemileh  kissed  her  hand.  "There's  something 
more  which  beeble  think  but  'fraid  to  ask,"  she 
pleaded.  "There's  lots  of  illness  in  the  fillage,  and 
no  doctor  and  no  chemist  nearer  than  the  city. 
They  ask  you,  could  you  not  arrange  for  a  good 
doctor  to  come  here  now  and  then  and  gif  out  medi- 
cines? It's  fery  hard  ubon  the  beeble.  Many  die, 
who  would  get  well  if  there  was  any  doctor." 


120  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

"How  foolish  you  all  are !  Why  should  you  fear 
to  ask  me  such  a  simple  thing  as  that?  I'll  see  what 
can  be  done,"  said  Elsie  almost  fiercely,  her  nerves 
still  shaken  from  her  tussle  with  the  priest. 

She  wrote  next  day  to  Dr.  Wilson,  inquiring  if  it 
would  be  possible  for  his  Society  to  open  a  dispen- 
sary at  Deyr  Amun,  supposing  that  she  undertook 
the  cost.  Her  letter,  sent  down  to  the  city  by  a 
muleteer,  was  answered  by  the  doctor  in  his  proper 
person.  He  rode  up  in  the  afternoon  and  stayed  for 
one  hour  only.  When  he  had  gone,  Miss  Wilding 
told  Jemileh  what  had  been  arranged.  The  doctor 
would  come  once  a  month  to  Deyr  Amun  for  a  whole 
day.  He  would  stay  the  night  at  her  house  and  on 
the  following  morning  would  again  see  patients, 
returning  to  the  city  after  luncheon.  Elsie  was  to 
subscribe  twenty  pounds  a  year  to  the  missionary 
society  and  also  to  provide  a  place  where  medicines 
could  be  kept  and  patients  interviewed. 

Jemileh  ran  to  spread  the  tidings  through  the 
village.  This  and  the  teaching  of  the  children 
English  was  proper  missionary  work  as  she  beheld 
it.  Great  was  her  triumph  as  she  went  from  house 
to  house,  in  black  mantilla  and  white  cotton  gloves, 
with  skirts  picked  delicately  up  between  a  thumb 
and  finger  in  the  Prankish  manner,  reaping  the 
people's  blessings  as  her  due.  But  all  success  has 
envy  in  its  train.  There  was  a  party  hostile  to  her 
in  the  village.  Towards  the  end  of  her  long  round, 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  121 

she  met  a  group  of  girls  with  pitchers  on  their 
heads,  returning  from  the  spring. 

"How  is  thy  health?"  they  asked  in  tones  of  deep 
affection,  stopping  to  talk.  Jemileh  answered 
sweetly,  but  was  not  deceived. 

"People  are  wondering,"  said  one,  "what  will 
become  of  thee  when  the  Sitt  marries,  as  she  will  do 
surely.  Thou  hast  served  her  well,  and  she  has 
destroyed  thy  value  by  free  intercourse  with  men." 

"The  Sitt  has  no  design  to  marry,  I  assure  you," 
answered  Jemileh,  with  a  scornful  laugh.  "And  as 
for  liberties  with  men — it  is  a  foolish  lie!" 

"That  may  be,  but  remember,  O  beloved,  that  the 
licence  of  the  Franks  is  not  admired  by  children 
of  the  Arabs.  The  Sitt  and  her  protection  failing, 
thou  wouldst  be  ashamed — a  soiled  and  damaged 
creature  without  hope  of  matrimony." 

Jemileh  was  already  tripping  on  with  chin  in  air. 
A  minute  later  she  was  in  her  father's  house,  sob- 
bing with  face  buried  in  the  wretched  divan. 

"That  is  what  we  fear:  the  Sitt  will  marry," 
grumbled  her  father  when  he  heard  the  reason  of 
her  grief.  "That  is  why  we  are  so  anxious  to  get 
money  from  her.  It  is  only  prudence,  though  thou 
and  Faris  blame  it  as  dishonesty." 

"If  only  she  would  wed  the  Sheykh  Bakir.  He 
loves  me  very  much  and  would  provide  for  me." 

"She  will  not  wed  the  Sheykh  Bakir." 

"Whom,  then?" 

"The  doctor — any  Englishman!     Dost  think  she 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

loves  us  children  of  the  Arabs?  She  pets  us  as 
some  men  pet  cats,  but  does  not  count  us  of  the 
race  of  Adam.  Get  money  from  her  while  thou 
canst.  That  is  the  path  of  wisdom." 

Jemileh  could  not  see  the  prospect  in  that  simple 
light,  her  vision  being  coloured  by  emotion.  She 
could  not  bear  the  thought  of  ever  leaving  Elsie. 


XIV 

IN  the  shade  of  a  great  carob-tree  a  crowd  of 
men,  women  and  children  waited — Christians  all.  At 
a  little  distance  a  small  group  of  five — four  men  and 
a  veiled  woman — also  waited.  One  of  the  men  lay 
helpless,  his  head  upon  a  comrade's  lap.  These  were 
Mahometans.  All  faced  a  house,  of  which  the  door 
stood  open,  showing  a  clean  white  room,  with  shelves 
along  one  wall,  a  table  strewn  with  bandages  and 
instruments,  and  four  plain  chairs.  This  was  the 
dispensary;  and  it  had  just  been  opened  with  prayer 
in  English  by  the  Scottish  doctor,  and  prayer  in 
Arabic  by  the  Khawajah  Yusuf. 

The  party  from  the  city  had  arrived  some  two 
hours  after  sunrise.  It  included  a  native  dispenser, 
an  English  hospital  nurse,  and  a  son  of  the  Khawa- 
jah Yusuf,  Percy  the  American,  who  accompanied 
his  father  for  the  jaunt.  Miss  Wilding  and  Jemileh 
welcomed  them,  together  with  the  Sheykh  Bakir,  the 
donor  of  the  building.  Most  of  the  patients  had  been 
waiting  since  the  day  before. 

The  doctor,  in  a  snow-white  smock,  stood  in  the 
doorway,  examining  the  eyes  of  an  old  man  who 
knelt  before  him;  assisted  by  his  native  helper  and 
the  English  nurse.  Within  the  room  were  Elsie  and 

123 


124.  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

Jemileh,  the  Sheykh  Bakir,  and  the  egregious  Percy, 
the  last-named  straddling  on  a  corner  of  the  table 
with  his  straw  hat  tilted  at  a  rakish  angle.  Abu 
Faris,  with  a  frown  of  high  authority,  went  round 
amid  the  crowd,  arranging  precedence.  The  shadow 
of  the  carob-tree,  and  of  the  neighbouring  wall, 
where  sat  the  group  of  Muslims,  lay  black  as  ink 
along  the  ground.  The  sky  was  of  blue  fire.  Liz- 
ards basked  upon  the  boulders,  running  suddenly. 
Butterflies  danced  above  a  little  patch  of  corn  in 
which  grew  scarlet  tulips.  The  hum  of  bees  was 
ceaseless,  like  the  murmur  of  a  furnace. 

"Another!"  cried  the  doctor,  as  his  patient,  with 
a  clean  white  bandage  round  one  eye,  strolled  grin- 
ning to  rejoin  the  crowd  beneath  the  tree.  Old  Abu 
Faris  called  another  from  that  crowd — a  youth  af- 
flicted with  a  pitiable  lameness.  A  brief  examination 
proved  that  nothing  could  be  done  for  him.  It  was 
a  case  of  compound  fracture,  which  had  healed  it- 
self in  awkward  fashion,  crippling  the  man  for  life. 

"Another!"  called  the  doctor.  Again  old  Abu 
Faris  signalled  to  the  Christian  crowd.  A  man  and 
woman,  leading  a  small  child  between  them,  were 
coming  across  the  space  of  blinding  sunlight,  when 
a  cry  of  "Allah!  Allah!"  came  from  the  prostrate 
Muslim.  The  veiled  woman  leaned  to  him  and  laid 
a  hand  upon  his  brow;  the  men  beside  him  mur- 
mured words  of  patience. 

"Who  are  those  people?"  cried  the  doctor  in  a 
tone  of  horror.  "Why  have  they  been  kept  waiting? 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  125 

That  man  should  have  come  first;  he  is  in  greatest 
need." 

"May  it  please  your  honour,  they  are  Muslims," 
explained  Abu  Fans.  "I  told  them  that  this  place 
of  healing  was  for  Christians  only,  but  that  your 
honour,  being  known  for  charity,  might  condescend 
to  see  them  in  the  end." 

The  doctor  had  already  hurried  to  the  spot  where 
the  young  Muslim  lay.  Presently  he  called  for  the 
dispenser  and  the  nurse  to  join  him.  "We  must 
lift  him  very  gently.  Don't  touch  his  hip !  It  is  a 
pulp.  They  say  a  rock  fell  on  him.  How  he  con- 
trived to  get  here  is  a  miracle — unless  they  carried 
him,  which  would  be  torture.  It  must  be  quite  two 
miles  and  all  uphill,"  murmured  the  doctor,  bend- 
ing over  the  young  man,  now  quite  insensible.  He 
moaned  as  he  was  lifted  up,  but  gave  no  other  sign 
of  life.  They  carried  him  into  the  house  and  placed 
him  on  the  table.  Miss  Wilding,  the  Khawajah  Yu- 
suf,  Percy  and  Jemileh  went  out  into  the  sunlight 
hurriedly,  followed  with  more  deliberation  by  the 
Sheykh  Bakir. 

"Why  did  you  not  bring  him  to  me  first?"  ques- 
tioned the  doctor  sternly. 

"I  knew  not  that  his  case  was  very  bad.  Those 
people  are  so  stupid.  They  say  nothing,"  grumbled 
Abu  Fan's. 

"Thou  art  an  imbecile !  Thy  imbecility  has  very 
likely  killed  a  man." 

The  doctor  went  into  the  house  and  shut  the  door. 


126  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

The  group  of  Muslims,  who  had  heard  his  words,  sat 
very  still.  From  the  crowd  of  Christians  went  up 
an  indignant  murmur.  A  woman  said  to  Abu  Faris 
as  he  passed:  "Take  courage,  O  my  Uncle!  The 
hakim  is  mad.  His  words  are  empty.  If  the  Mus- 
lim youth  does  die,  it  is  no  matter." 

There  were  chuckles  of  applause. 

"I  guess  you  don't  know  what  that  woman  said," 
breathed  Percy  son  of  Yusuf  in  Miss  Wilding's  ear. 
"She  reckons  it's  all  wrong  to  patch  up  Muslims. 
The  more  of  that  sort  die  the  better,  that's  her  view. 
She  wishes  the  old  man  had  done  for  him  right  there. 
Nice  talk  to  hear  in  one's  own  country,  ain't  it? 
Worse  than  Injuns." 

He  spoke  with  a  cigarette  between  his  lips,  legs 
wide  apart  and  hands  thrust  deeply  in  the  trouser- 
pockets  of  his  flannel  suit,  his  hat  still  tilted  at  a 
rakish  angle.  At  the  conclusion  of  the  speech  he 
spat.  Elsie,  resenting  his  demeanour,  answered 
coldly — 

"The  Christians  of  this  country  have  had  much  to 
suffer." 

"That's  so,"  replied  the  young  man,  unabashed. 

"The  Muslims  not  so  bad,"  put  in  the  Sheykh 
Bakir.  "Quite  easy  to  get  on  with  if  you  treat  'em 
fair."  He  spoke  contentiously,  with  evident  dislike 
of  Percy's  neighbourhood,  and,  having  spoken, 
crossed  the  space  of  sunlight  to  the  group  of  Mus- 
lims and  addressed  them  kindly.  A  smile  broke  sud- 
denly upon  their  anxious  faces. 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  127 

The    Khawajah    Yusuf   whispered    to    Jemileh — 

"Barsi,  my  son,  has  made  much  money  in  Amer- 
ica. I  hope  that  he  will  settle  in  our  land.  As  an 
American  citizen  he  could  do  good  business  here, 
being  above  the  law.  If  we  could  only  find  a  wife 
for  him!  But  he  is  so  well-educated,  so  refined. 
Your  lady  is  extremely  beautiful,  and  comes,  as  I  un- 
derstand, of  a  high  family.  Every  one  who  sees  her 
is  enchanted." 

Jemileh,  at  first  sight  of  Percy,  had  been  well- 
nigh  suffocated  by  her  admiration  of  such  Frankish 
elegance.  Now,  realizing  that  it  was  her  mistress 
whom  he  had  in  view,  she  trembled,  and  came  very 
near  to  faint.  The  youth  might  be  esteemed  a 
Frank,  and  he  was  irresistible. 

"Who's  he,  anyway?"  asked  Percy  of  Miss  Wild- 
ing, jerking  his  head  in  the  direction  of  the  Sheykh 
Bakir. 

"The  great  man  of  the  place,  the  Sheykh  Bakir 
Feridani." 

"You  don't  say?  That's  real  interesting!  It's 
a  great  family — comes  from  way  back  before  the 
Muslim  conquest,"  said  Percy,  much  impressed. 
"He  don't  appear  to  hate  the  Muslims  any." 

"He  thinks  as  I  do,  that  as  Christians  we  should 
show  them  kindness — try  to  win  them  over,"  mur- 
mured Elsie. 

"That's  so!  You  get  there  every  time — right 
there,  you  do ! — when  all  these  missionaries  will  go 


128  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

blunderin'  round  till  Kingdom  Come.  I'm  proud 
to  know  you,  miss." 

He  flung  away  his  cigarette,  put  his  hat  straight 
and  faced  her  with  an  air  of  serious  deference.  "Now 
I  ask  you  to  inform  me  in  what  way  you  would  set 
about  winning  over  the  Muslim  element  in  this  coun- 
try which  has  been  top  dog  for  centuries.  Would 
you  go  in  for  education  or  medical  work?" 

"All  that  is  useless  till  you  change  their  hearts. 
They  are  savage  because  they  are  in  ignorance. 
Give  them  the  Gospel  first,  the  rest  will  follow." 

"If  they  had  the  Gospel  same  as  us,  then,  you 
opine  that  they  would  go  ahead  like  steam  the  same 
as  we  do?" 

"Can  you  doubt  it?  Does  not  all  history  go  to 
prove  that  it  is  so?"  .  .  . 

The  cunning  youth  had  got  her  on  her  hobby, 
and  she  now  talked  earnestly,  forgetful  of  her  first 
dislike.  Jemileh  watched  them  with  a  heart  like 
lead. 

The  door  of  the  dipsensary  was  opened,  and  the 
doctor  asked  if  there  was  such  a  thing  as  a  horse- 
litter  in  the  village.  The  Sheykh  Bakir  at  once  dis- 
patched Abdullah  Shukri  to  fetch  an  ancient  palan- 
quin which  had  been  used  by  his  great-grandmother. 
This  was  brought  and  the  unconscious  man  was 
placed  in  it,  his  friends  surrounding  him  with  wild 
gesticulations  and  distracted  cries. 

"Excuse  me  now,  I  go  with  them,"  whispered  Ba- 
kir to  Elsie.  "They  heard  the  doctor  say  about  old 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  129 

Abu  Paris  killing  the  boor  feller.  Rotten  thing  to 
say.  They  tell  about  it  in  their  fillage.  I  go  with 
them  to  see  their  sheykh  and  make  all  right." 

The  doctor  went  on  treating  patient  after  patient. 
The  ceaseless  hum  of  bees  conduced  to  headache. 
Towards  one  o'clock  Miss  Wilding  and  Jemileh  set 
out  luncheon  on  the  table  from  a  basket.  Percy 
volunteered  to  help  them.  He  observed:  "Snakes! 
You  fairly  knocked  me  with  the  truth  of  what  you 
said  about  the  Muslims.  I've  come  home  with  quite 
a  pile  o'  money.  I  should  like  to  do  some  good  in 
this  old  country." 

"I'm  sure  you  could  not  undertake  a  nobler 
work,"  said  Elsie.  "But  there  might  be  danger." 

"I  don't  know  as  I  object  to  that  so  long  as  I 
could  feel  way  down  as  I  was  doing  good,"  said 
Percy,  smiling. 

"You  would  have  to  go  very  slowly,  very  tact- 
fully." 

"And  that's  eternal  truth,"  he  answered  gravely. 
"I  wonder  now  if  you  yourself  'd  feel  like  helping 
me  a  bit  at  first — I  mean,  with  your  advice — to  get 
to  work." 

"Of  course  I  would,"  said  Elsie  cordially. 
"Though  I'm  afraid  you'd  find  me  of  but  little  use." 

"Now  that's  real  good  of  you,  Miss  Wilding,  I 
must  say!" 

Jemileh  here  let  fall  a  lot  of  sandwiches  out  of 
a  packet  which  she  was  unfolding.  The  slight  dis- 
turbance covered  her  distress.  The  Khawajah 


130  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

Barsi  was  as  cunning  as  he  was  attractive.  Already 
he  had  found  the  weak  point  in  her  dear  one's  ar- 
mour. 

But  a  little  later,  when  they  sat  at  luncheon,  she 
knew  not  which  to  dread  more,  Percy  or  the  doc- 
tor; for  Miss  Wilding  hung  upon  the  latter's  every 
word.  The  nurse,  a  pious  creature,  started  hymns 
while  eating;  and  Jemileh,  as  she  handed  round  the 
hard-boiled  eggs  to  the  tune  of  "Conquering  kings 
their  titles  take,"  observed  her  mistress  speaking 
earnestly  to  Dr.  Wilson,  and,  stricken  speechless, 
overheard  these  words — 

"May  I  work  with  you  this  afternoon — just  help 
Nurse  Dorothy?" 

"Certainly.  Only  you  mustn't  mind  if  I  speak 
sharply." 

After  luncheon  Jemileh  was  sent  up  to  the  house 
to  fetch  an  apron  for  Miss  Wilding,  who,  clad  in 
it,  worked  all  that  afternoon  under  the  nurse's  or- 
ders— like  a  servant,  as  Jemileh  thought  indig- 
nantly. It  did  not  please  her  that  her  mistress,  on 
whose  dignity  her  own  depended,  should  thus  de- 
grade herself  before  the  eyes  of  Deyr  Amun. 

Percy  came  and  sat  beside  her  in  the  shade  and 
talked  to  her  about  Miss  Wilding,  whom  he  called 
a  "peach,"  wishing  to  know  what  in  the  world  had 
made  her  take  up  with  the  missionary  business.  In 
the  end  he  opened  out  his  whole  design.  "I  am  an 
American  citizen,"  he  told  Jemileh,  "and  a  Brutes- 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  131 

tant.     Sons  of  the  Arabs  with  these  qualifications 
have  wedded  noble  English  maidens  before  now." 

Pointblank  he  asked  Jemileh's  help  to  win  Miss 
Wilding,  promising  her  a  great  reward  upon  the 
day  of  the  betrothal.  After  proper  hesitation,  mak- 
ing his  entreaties  abject,  she  consented,  glad  to  feel 
she  had  him  in  her  power.  As  for  his  marrying 
Elsie,  sooner  than  allow  it  she  would  kill  him  with 
her  own  hands,  that  she  vowed.  Sitting  beside  him 
now  agreeably,  she  marked  the  Adam's  apple  in  his 
throat  and  thrilled  to  think  that  there  her  hands 
should  press  until  he  ceased  to  breathe;  her  soul  so 
loved  him. 


XV 


THE  year's  last  rain  had  fallen.  There  were  no 
more  clouds.  The  village  with  its  orchards  made 
a  patch  of  shade  upon  the  mountain-side  at  noon, 
a  patch  of  verdure  in  the  gentler  light  of  dawn  and 
evening.  At  night  it  shimmered  with  the  dance  of 
fireflies ;  interminable  wailing  songs  went  up  from 
it  together  with  the  twang  of  lutes  and  beat  of 
little  drums.  Jemileh  on  the  whole  was  happy, 
though  the  neighbourhood  of  Percy  gave  her  some 
uneasiness.  He,  pursuing  his  design,  had  rented  a 
small  house  at  Deyr  Amun.  His  gift  for  hitting 
on  the  catchwords  which  made  Elsie  serious,  alarmed 
Jemileh.  But  she  knew  that  Elsie  had  as  yet  no 
feeling  for  him  personally,  being  attracted  only 
by  his  scheme  for  making  Muslims  Christians — a 
scheme  so  mad  that  every  native  of  the  country 
would  have  recognized  it  as  a  joke  at  once. 

Percy  had  decided  that  the  reason  why  Mahom- 
etans never  became  Christians  was  the  Muslim  law, 
which  punished  such  conversion.  It  was  therefore 
necessary,  in  order  to  get  converts,  to  assure  the 
would-be  Christians  of  a  safe  retreat.  This  Percy 
had  discovered  in  America,  where  in  every  industry 
there  was  demand  for  cheaper  labour.  His  idea 

132 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  133 

was  to  convert  as  many  Muslims  as  he  could  and 
ship  them  over  to  America  to  certain  firms,  under 
contract  to  work  for  the  said  firms  for,  say,  five 
years  at  a  wage  which  would  appear  to  them  mag- 
nificent while  the  Americans  would  think  it  ludi- 
crously small.  The  mission  would  soon  pay  its  way, 
he  reckoned.  In  the  village  this  idea  of  selling  Mus- 
lim men  for  slaves  was  welcomed  as  a  clever  satire 
on  the  Franks,  who  always  mix  up  commerce  with 
religion.  Jemileh  also  viewed  it  in  that  light.  But 
Elsie,  being  herself  unpractical,  was  much  impressed 
by  Percy's  manner  of  the  business  man. 

"I  do  not  know  that  I  yet  quite  approve  of  Mr. 
Salaman's  idea,  but  it  seems  as  if  it  might  be 
feasible  when  we  have  talked  it  into  shape,"  she  told 
Jemileh. 

This  while  Mr.  Salaman  (for  Percy)  himself  was 
so  little  serious  in  that  idea  that  when  he  broached 
the  subject  in  Jemileh's  presence  he  threw  her  some- 
thing very  like  a  wink. 

"It  is  so  easy  to  say  that  any  one  is  insincere. 
It  has  been  said  of  every  missionary  and  reformer 
since  the  world  began,"  was  Elsie's  answer  to  the 
Sheykh  Bakir,  who  tried  to  warn  her. 

Jemileh  watched  and  waited  patiently  with  prayer 
to  God  for  the  discomfiture  of  Percy,  in  which  event 
she  stood  there  ready  to  console  him.  Bakir,  too, 
learnt  to  hold  his  tongue  upon  the  subject. 

Things  were  at  this  pass  when  Elsie  received  a 
letter  from  her  brother,  stating  his  will  to  spend 


134  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

a  month  with  her  on  his  way  home  from  India.  He 
would  arrive  in  six  weeks  from  the  date  of  writ- 
ing. Elsie,  glancing  at  the  first  page  of  the  letter, 
cried — 

"He  may  have  landed!  And  he  is  going  to  my 
aunts  and  they  know  nothing  of  all  this!  I  must 
ride  down  to-morrow  morning  and  prepare  their 
minds.  Jemileh,  you  come  too.  The  change  will 
do  you  good.  You  haven't  left  this  place  since  first 
we  came  here." 

It  was  midnight  before  either  of  them  went  to 
bed  that  night;  yet  they  were  up  and  out  by  five 
o'clock  next  morning,  and  in  the  city  by  the  fourth 
hour  of  the  day. 

Abbas  ran  out  into  the  street  to  meet  them.  Smil- 
ing, he  whispered  in  Jemileh's  ear.  The  latter  told 
Miss  Wilding:  "He  says  your  brother's  come. 
He's  staying  at  the  hotel  with  his  friend." 

"He  said  nothing  about  a  friend  in  his  letter. 
This  is  most  mysterious,"  said  Elsie,  entering  the 
house. 

Miss  Sophy  met  her  in  the  courtyard,  crying, 
"He  came  yesterday.  Such  a  surprise !  Abbas  said 
that  'a  great  one'  wished  to  see  us.  We  were  won- 
dering whoever  it  could  be  when  in  walked  the  young 
man  and  said,  'I'm  Jack.'  He  is  delightful.  We 
should  have  liked  him  to  stay  here,  but  it  is  diffi- 
cult." 

"Who  is  this  friend  of  his?" 

"A  Mr.   Fenn.      A   very   gentlemanlike   man   and 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  135 

most  amusing.  They  were  at  school  together,  so 
your  brother  tells  me.  They  met  again  by  chance 
on  board  the  steamboat." 

The  Sitt  Afifeh,  right  hand  of  the  Misses  Beren- 
ger,  received  Jemileh  as  the  right  hand  of  Miss 
Wilding  with  all  proper  ceremony. 

"I  fear  you  will  miss  many  comforts  in  my  poor 
establishment,"  she  said  as  she  performed  the  hon- 
ours of  the  bedroom.  "By  what  I  hear  your  house 
is  ten  times  grander,  and  furnished  in  the  latest 
fashion  with  all  luxury.  The  missionaries  shake 
their  heads  at  the  behaviour  of  your  lady.  But 
they  are  stupid  people  and  malignant  killjoys. 
They  say  that  she  has  men  to  sup  alone  with  her, 
but  they  are  such  accursed  and  malicious  liars  that 
no  one  can  believe  a  word  they  utter.  Now  that 
your  lady's  brother  has  arrived — a  military  officer 
— such  talk  will  die  for  fear  of  his  revenge.  He 
and  his  friend  will  stay  with  you  at  Deyr  Amun." 

Jemileh  gaped  upon  the  speaker  for  a  moment, 
then  replied — 

"Your  words  astound  me!  On  the  contrary,  by 
Allah,  nothing  could  be  more  retired,  more  modest 
than  the  life  we  lead.  If  male  visitors  occasionally 
come  to  us,  their  visit  is  hedged  round  with  cere- 
mony like  the  audience  of  a  queen.  From  the  hour 
of  sunset  till  the  hour  of  dawn  no  male  thing  can 
be  found  within  our  gates.  My  father  and  my 
brother,  armed  with  guns,  keep  watch  outside." 

"Well,    I   have    told    thee   what   the    missionaries 


136  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

cackle !"  sighed  Afifeh,  with  a  shrug.  As  they  came 
downstairs  into  the  yard,  she  caught  Jemileh's  arm 
and  whispered,  "There  they  go !"  Jemileh  saw  two 
Prankish  men  conducted  by  Abbas  across  the  sunlit 
quadrangle.  She  had  no  difficulty  in  deciding  which 
was  Elsie's  brother.  His  friend  was  smaller,  uglier, 
but  looked  intelligent. 

"May  their  coming  bode  us  good !"  she  murmured 
doubtfully. 

Elsie's  meeting  with  her  brother  was  quite  une- 
motional— a  "So  there  you  are !"  on  the  one  side 
and  a  "Well,  old  girl!"  upon  the  other. 

"My  friend,  Dick  Fenn,"  was  introduced,  and 
Elsie  noticed  that  Mr.  Fenn  seemed  quiet  and  of 
good  intelligence,  quite  different  from  the  remem- 
bered cohort  of  her  brother's  friends.  "I  don't 
know  how  you're  off  for  room  in  the  wilderness,  but 
I  should  take  it  as  a  friendly  act  if  you'd  invite 
him  too,"  said  Jack. 

"I  don't  take  up  much  room,"  put  in  the  other, 
smiling,  "and  I've  got  a  tent  which  suits  me  better 
than  a  room." 

"You'll  like  Fenn,"  Jack  informed  his  sister  in 
a  loud  aside.  "He's  as  keen  as  you  are  about  nig- 
gers and  all  that." 

A  glance  of  amusement,  showing  that  he  did  not 
take  Jack  seriously,  confirmed  the  good  impression 
Mr.  Fenn  had  made  on  Elsie.  She  really  hoped 
that  he  would  spend  some  time  at  Deyr  Amun. 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  187 

"Aunt  Sophy  must  come  up  and  chaperon  me," 
she  exclaimed  with  glee. 

"But  you  must  not  fly  off  at  once,"  Miss  Jane 
protested.  "I  insisted  on  your  all  staying  here  a  week 
at  least.  It  is  so  seldom  that  we  see  our  relatives." 

"Fm  game,"  said  Jack,  "on  one  condition,  which 
is  that  you  and  Aunt  Sophia  dine  with  us  at  the 
hotel  this  evening." 

The  two  old  maids  were  thrown  into  a  flutter. 
Never,  since  their  coming  to  the  city,  had  they  dined 
at  the  hotel. 

"It  shows  what  sort  of  a  time  they've  had  of  it 
out  here,"  said  Jack  to  Elsie  privately.  And  he 
stated  his  intention  to  enliven  them  while  he  was 
there. 

Incidentally  he  managed  to  enliven  the  whole 
British  colony.  The  week  was  altogether  joyous, 
and  utterly  unlike  the  place  as  Elsie  knew  it.  Her 
brother's  knack  of  importing  his  own  rather  bois- 
terous atmosphere  into  any  company  he  might  fre- 
quent had  much  annoyed  her  in  old  days;  but  now 
it  made  a  welcome  change.  The  missionaries,  who 
had  seemed  so  dull  and  narrow,  developed  unex- 
pected geniality ;  the  tennis-playing,  which  had  been 
a  solemn  rite,  became  a  real  amusement  under  Jack's 
direction.  That  her  brother  should  strike  up  a 
friendship  with  the  Consul,  whom  Elsie  still  regarded 
as  her  enemy;  should  think  it  right  to  call  upon 
the  Turkish  governor  and,  returning  from  the  visit, 
profess  admiration  for  the  Turks,  was  tiresome  but 


138  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

only  to  be  expected  from  her  knowledge  of  him. 
Jack's  jokes  about  her  missionary  efforts  she  en- 
dured, and  only  once  did  he  attempet  a  serious  talk 
with  her  upon  that  subject. 

"I  say,  old  girl,"  he  said  one  early  morning,  as 
they  were  returning  from  a  ride  together  through 
the  gardens,  "you  mustn't  really  think  of  settling 
down  out  here.  It's  all  right  for  a  time — good  fun, 
I  know.  But  in  the  end  you'll  either  turn  into  an 
amiable  fossil  like  the  dear  old  aunts,  or  go  quite 
mad.  There's  nothing  here  to  do." 

"When  you  come  to  Deyr  Amun,  you'll  see  that 
I  find  much  to  do,"  said  Elsie,  holding  herself  in. 

"Missionizing — eh?"  said  Jack  with  a  despairing 
laugh.  "The  dear  old  Pasha  fairly  chuckled  when 
I  talked  about  it — said  something  that  I  can't  re- 
member, but  it  was  devilish  good.  I've  been  five 
years  in  India  and  I  can  tell  you  I  don't  love  the 
native  Christian.  If  he's  changed  his  religion  it's 
for  what  he  can  get." 

"That  just  shows,"  his  sister  cried,  "how  much 
you  know  about  it.  The  native  Christians  here  are 
not  converted  from  Mahometanism,  but  the  de- 
scendants of  those  who  at  the  Mahometan  conquest 
refused  to  change  their  faith." 

"That  shows  that  the  Mahometans  were  jolly  de- 
cent, since  they  let  them  live.  They  must  have  al- 
ways been  an  awful  nuisance." 

"They  have  persecuted  them  atrociously  for  cen- 
turies !" 


THE  HOUSE  QF  WAR  139 

"Impossible,  old  girl!  The  last  one  would  have 
cleared  out  long  ago.  They're  still  alive  and  seem 
to  me  to  boss  the  blessed  country.  .  .  .  But  if 
they're  decent  Christians,  why  convert  them?" 

"I  shall  not  argue  with  you!" 

"You  talk  to  Fenn !    He  knows  a  lot  about  it." 

"I  fancy  Mr.  Fenn  would  quite  agree  with  me." 

"If  he  does  I'll  eat  my  hat!"  Jack  laughed  de- 
risively. He  was  obliged  to  hold  his  peace,  for  they 
were  entering  a  crowded  market  where  all  their  wits 
were  needed  to  avoid  collisions.  Parting  from  her 
at  the  door  of  their  aunt's  house,  he  cried,  for  the 
last  word — 

"Well,  you  know  what  I  think.  This  missionary 
business  is  all  humbug.  You're  simply  fooling  round 
and  wasting  money  on  a  lot  of  rascals  who  are  cer- 
tain to  make  game  of  you  behind  your  back." 

These  words,  loudly  uttered,  reached  the  hearing 
of  Jemileh,  who  happened  to  be  sitting  in  the  court. 
They  gave  her  quite  a  new  respect  for  Mr.  Jack's 
intelligence. 


XVI 

THE  glow  of  early  morning  had  just  come  to 
Deyr  Amun,  though  for  two  hours  it  had  warmed 
the  heights  beyond  the  wady.  Jemileh,  with  a  crim- 
son shawl  over  her  head,  stood  on  the  terrace  under- 
neath the  umbrella  pines,  watching  a  cavalcade  go 
down  the  terrace.  It  was  an  excursion  organized 
by  Sheykh  Bakir  for  the  amusement  of  the  English- 
men. They  were  going  to  a  place  where  rumour 
said  that  there  were  leopards.  Miss  Wilding,  at  the 
sheykh's  request,  was  of  the  party,  and  the  infatu- 
ated Percy  could  not  be  kept  out.  The  last  named 
wore  the  neatest  of  white  riding  breeches,  white  coat 
and  waistcoat,  blue  shirt,  black  tie,  the  brightest 
of  black  riding  boots  and  white  kid  gloves  for  the 
occasion,  the  whole  surmounted  by  a  brand-new 
panama.  Jemileh  had  never  in  her  life  before  be- 
held such  elegance.  Yet  at  starting,  Mr.  Jack  had 
laughed  at  its  possessor  rudely,  and  now  that  they 
were  halfway  down  the  slope  to  the  ravine,  had 
knocked  his  hat  off,  obliging  Percy  to  dismount. 
Miss  Elsie,  riding  on  in  front  between  the  Sheykh 
Bakir  and  Mr.  Fenn,  did  not  see  what  had  happened 
or  she  would  for  certain  have  been  angry. 

Jemileh,  though  disgusted  with  the  Englishman's 
140 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  141 

brutality,  tasted  a  bitter  pleasure  in  the  sight  of 
Percy  tortured.  It  served  him  right  for  clinging  to 
the  Franks  who  did  not  want  him,  and  slighting  an 
unlucky  girl  of  his  own  race  who  loved  him. 

In  advance  of  the  party  rode  the  greatest  hunter 
in  the  mountains — a  Muslim  from  Ai'neyn — with  one 
of  the  Turkish  soldiers  attached  to  Sheykh  Bakir 
in  his  capacity  as  Mudir  of  the  district.  At  the 
point  where  they  were  last  seen  from  the  house  Miss 
Wilding  turned  and  waved  her  handkerchief  to  poor 
Jemileh  on  the  terrace,  who  returned  the  signal, 
smiling  obsequiously,  as  if  her  mistress  had  been  near 
enough  to  see  her  face.  But  the  tinkle  of  the  brace- 
lets on  her  shapely  arm  was  like  the  rattle  of  dry 
bones ;  her  eyes  were  full  of  tears,  and  it  was  with 
a  look  of  utter  desolation  that  she  turned  and  went 
indoors. 

The  visit  of  the  two  young  Englishmen,  for  all  its 
noise  of  gaiety,  dismayed  her.  She  felt  that  Elsie 
was  escaping  from  her,  was  being  tempted  back  to 
England  by  her  brother's  presence.  She  had  over- 
heard some  of  the  talk  with  which  the  shrewd  and 
forcible  Khawajah  Jack  regaled  Miss  Wilding  when 
they  were  alone  together.  It  was  all  derision  of 
the  people  of  the  country.  The  Khawajah  Fenn, 
his  friend,  was  still  more  terrible.  If  he  never  spoke 
against  the  children  of  the  Arabs  he  knew  more 
about  them,  fifty  times,  than  did  Khawajah  Jack. 
The  Khawajah  Fenn  spoke  Arabic  like  a  Muslim — 
that  is  to  say,  much  better  than  Jemileh — when  he 


142  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

chose.  He  also  understood  the  local  dialect,  and 
had  made  acquaintance  with  some  people  in  the  vil- 
lage who  disliked  Jemileh.  After  watching  the  trio 
for  a  week  with  the  keen  eyes  of  a  small  anxious 
builder  who  saw  her  painfully  erected  fabric  men- 
aced with  destruction,  she  felt  sure  that  Elsie  was 
attracted  by  this  hateful  man.  That  he,  on  his  side, 
desired  Elsie  was  self-evident.  How  could  he  help 
but  long  for  one  so  appetizing,  being  thrown  with 
her  for  days  together  in  such  intimacy?  Jemileh 
felt  deserted  in  a  double  sense,  as  she  moved  lan- 
guidly about  her  duties  in  the  empty  house,  with 
only  Miss  Sophia  Berenger  to  wait  upon. 

Her  thoughts  returned  to  Percy  with  compassion. 
Like  her,  he  was  despised,  derided  of  the  Franks. 
Why — why  did  he  submit  to  their  indignities,  being 
a  man  of  wealth  and  perfect  independence?  Why 
could  he  not  turn  with  love  towards  one  who  asked 
but  leave  to  be  his  slave  for  life?  By  the  time  the 
cavalcade  returned,  soon  after  sunset,  she  had  re- 
solved to  speak  to  Percy  on  this  subject  guardedly. 
She  hurried  out  to  greet  the  party,  smiling  brightly. 

"We've  had  a  ripping  time!"  called  out  Khaw- 
ajah  Jack.  "Though  Percy-boy  had  a  bad  fright 
— didn't  you,  Percy?" 

There  was  a  laugh,  in  which  his  victim  tried  in 
vain  to  join.  Elsie  exclaimed — 

"It  is  too  bad!  I  will  not  have  Mr.  Salaman 
tormented  any  longer." 

"He    ran — like    a    steam-engine,    he    ran!"    cried 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

Sheykh  Bakir;  while  Abdullah  Shukri,  understand- 
ing from  the  laughter  what  the  subject  of  discussion 
was,  added  in  Arabic,  "He  ran,  by  Allah!" 

From  disconnected  words  Jemileh  learnt  the  na- 
ture of  the  joke  which  had  been  played  on  Percy. 
While  he  was  stalking  a  small  bird  among  the  rocks, 
crawling  on  his  stomach  cautiously,  with  gun  in 
hand,  the  Englishmen  had  raised  the  shout:  "Look 
out !  There  is  a  leopard  close  behind  you." 

"Percy  had  all  the  sport,"  remarked  Khawajah 
Fenn  in  his  dry  way,  far  worse  to  bear  than  the 
horse-laughter  of  unthinking  Jack.  "He  shot  a 
sparrow  and  a  lizard,  was  it — or  a  mouse?" 

"I  guess  you  lively  boys  must  have  your  fun. 
No  use  my  talking  any,"  observed  Percy,  smiling. 

"They  played  a  filthy  trick,"  he  told  Jemileh  pri- 
vately. "They  think,  because  I  have  some  nerves, 
that  I  lack  fortitude,  and  made  it  so  appear  before 
the  lady.  Am  I  not  better  than  those  loud-voiced, 
laughing  fools?  I  go  in  daily  terror  of  assassina- 
tion— for  the  lady's  sake.  My  plan  for  the  conver- 
sion of  the  Muslimin  is  known.  The  government 
and  all  the  infidels  desire  to  slay  me.  They  dare 
not  do  it  openly,  because  I  am  an  American.  But 
it  is  dangerous  for  me  to  go  abroad  at  night.  All 
this  I  suffer.  Is  it  fair  that  she  should  view  me  as  a 
coward?  When  she  beholds  me  dead — stabbed 
through  in  fifty  places — for  her  sake — she  will  not 
laugh,  perhaps." 

He  spoke  with  fury.     Jemileh  shuddered  at  the 


144  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

dreadful  picture,  though  she  knew  that  it  was  im- 
aginary. That  night  she  told  her  mistress  about 
Percy's  danger,  as  a  matter  of  her  private  knowl- 
edge. 

"I  don't  believe  it,"  was  Miss  Wilding's  answer, 
"any  more  than  I  believe  in  his  intention  to  con- 
vert Mahometans.  My  aunt  assures  me  he  is  quite 
incapable  of  such  a  thing." 

Jemileh  was  alarmed  by  this  disclosure  of  pure 
scepticism  where  she  had  formerly  waged  war  upon 
a  blind  belief.  She  pleaded  Percy's  cause  as  if  it  had 
been  her  own. 

"He  would  not  do  good  by  himself.  But  you  in- 
sbire  him,  dear  Miss  Elsie.  He'd  throw  himself  into 
the  fire  if  you  commanded.  He's  trying  to  con- 
fert  those  wicked  beeble,  although  he  knows  that 
they  will  try  to  kill  him." 

"I  don't  want  him  to  do  anything  for  me,"  said 
Elsie  highly.  "I'm  afraid  he  really  does  tell  shock- 
ing stories.  But,  of  course^  he  may  be  earnest  in 
this  instance.  Time  will  show." 

"He  is  in  earnest.  I  am  sure  of  it,"  sighed  poor 
Jemileh.  "You  are  so  changed  in  these  last  days. 
You  don't  belief  in  doin'  good  like  what  you  did. 
Mr.  Jack  he  says  the  missionary  business  is  all 
humbug — I  haf  heard  him — I  am  afraid  he  make  you 
think  the  same." 

"Not  he!"  said  Elsie,  with  a  scornful  laugh.  "I 
know  my  brother." 

The  baneful   influence   of  the   two   Englishmen — 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  145 

whom  Jemileh  in  her  mind  beheld  as  wicked  schemers 
— was  apparent  in  each  word  her  mistress  uttered. 
Jemileh  mourned  the  dear  one's  lapse  from  high 
ideals.  The  Englishmen — undoubted  Atheists — cor- 
rupted her.  They  led  her  to  suppose  that  all  the 
natives  of  the  country  were  untrustworthy.  With 
sorrow  she  warned  Percy  of  the  grievous  change 
which  the  conversation  of  those  infidels  had  wrought 
in  Elsie. 

"Ha !  She  shall  see !"  he  cried,  grinding  his  teeth. 
"By  the  Gospel,  I  am  altogether  reckless.  I  shall 
wander  out  at  nights  when  certain  death  awaits 
me." 

Jemileh  strove  in  vain  to  calm  him,  saying — 

"Thou  art  much  too  good  for  them.  They  can- 
not estimate  thy  height  of  character.  Return  to 
thy  own  people,  to  the  children  of  the  Arabs,  who 
respect  and  love  thee." 

"Our  Lord  reward  thy  kindness !"  was  his  answer. 
"Thou  art  my  one  friend.  I  behold  thee  as  an  angel, 
nothing  less,  by  Allah!  I  know  that  thou  wouldst 
save  me,  but  it  is  too  late.  The  poison  of  that 
proud  disdainful  girl  is  in  my  veins.  Strange  things 
shall  come  to  pass.  She  shall  respect  me.  God 
knows  I  care  not  for  my  life  henceforward." 

Jemileh  was  distressed  by  his  wild  talk,  which 
showed  the  measure  of  his  love  for  Elsie.  She  could 
not  think  that  one  of  his  intelligence  would  really 
put  himself  in  any  danger. 

But   that  very   evening   as   she   went  with   Paris 


146  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

to  the  village  shop — a  walk  of  near  a  mile — to  buy 
some  candles,  she  saw  a  sight  which  filled  her  with 
concern.  Passing  a  tavern — a  vine  arbour  on  a 
terrace  just  above  the  road — she  espied,  among  the 
men  who  sat  there  drinking,  Percy  in  conversation 
with  the  village  murderer.  Above  the  talk  and 
laughter,  the  rattle  of  backgammon-pieces  sharp  as 
pistol-shots,  she  heard  him  say:  "To  kill  a  man  is 
no  more  than  to  kill  a  fly."  The  answer  of  Amin 
the  murderer  she  failed  to  catch,  but  from  the  tone 
she  judged  it  a  rebuke. 

Her  thoughts  were  hornets  as  she  hurried  on  her 
way.  Could  Percy,  maddened  by  ill-usage,  be  in- 
tending to  assassinate  his  rival,  the  Khawajah  Fenn? 
She  put  the  question  to  her  brother,  who  had  seen 
what  she  had. 

"No,"  said  Faris,  "he  has  not  the  manhood.  His 
talking  with  Amin  is  chance  or  mere  bravado." 

Jemileh  felt  that  he  was  right.  Percy  had  not  the 
stupidity  (or  as  Faris,  himself  stupid,  called  it 
"manhood")  to  contemplate  so  great  a  crime.  But 
there  remained  the  shame  of  his  appearance  in  such 
company,  degrading  her  ideal  of  perfect  elegance. 
From  a  child  she  had  been  taught  to  shun  Amin 
the  murderer,  while  always  treating  him  with  great 
politeness.  He  was  a  good  Christian,  that  was 
known;  the  priest  supported  him.  But  the  odium 
of  one  who  counted  human  life  as  that  of  sheep, 
killing  a  man,  a  woman,  or  a  child  to  order  coolly 
in  the  way  of  business,  adhered  to  him  in  spite  of  his 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  147 

religious  orthodoxy.  It  was  impossible  that  Percy 
should  not  know  his  character,  since  everybody  in 
the  village  called  him  Murderer.  He  must  be  des- 
perate indeed.  Her  heart  was  troubled  for  him. 

But  on  the  morrow  and  succeeding  days  Percy 
came  up  to  Miss  Wilding's  house  as  usual,  bearing 
the  insults  of  the  Englishmen  with  his  accustomed 
patience.  Jemileh  laid  aside  misgiving  upon  his  ac- 
count, and  had  begun  to  harbour  some  contempt  for 
his  mean  spirit,  when  the  end  came  suddenly. 

One  afternoon  while  the  sun's  heat  was  still  ex- 
treme the  Englishmen  must  needs  play  a  fatiguing 
game  with  bat  and  ball,  which  turned,  as  all  their 
games  were  wont  to  do,  to  teasing  Percy.  Jemileh 
saw  their  victim  growing  hot  and  weary.  They 
mocked  him  cruelly  and  flung  the  ball  at  him.  It 
sometimes  hit  his  face;  yet  still  he  smiled  agreeably. 

"It  is  a  shame !"  exclaimed  Jemileh,  who  sat  at 
Elsie's  feet  beneath  the  pine-trees,  watching.  "We 
ought  not  to  be  sitting  here,  Miss  Elsie — you,  a 
missionary  lady — watching  that  rude  game."  Je- 
mileh seized  the  fair  girl's  hand  and  pleaded: 
"Blease  to  stob  them!  He  is  a  good  man,  only  so 
bolite.  He  does  not  understand  their  jokes,  he  tries 
to  blease  them." 

"He  is  playing  for  his  own  amusement,  I  sup- 
pose," was  the  cold  answer. 

"I  must  say  he  is  most  good-natured,"  said  Miss 
Sophy  at  her  crochetwork. 

Even  Jemileh  was  obliged  to  laugh  when  Percy, 


148  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

trying  hard  to  hit  the  ball,  swung  round,  and  tum- 
bled forward  on  the  bat  while  the  ball,  at  the  same 
moment,  flying  from  the  deft  hand  of  the  Khawajah 
Jack,  attained  the  stretched-out  seat  of  his  white 
trousers.  Shouts  of  joy  went  up  from  a  small  crowd 
of  village  urchins  who  hung  upon  the  terrace  wall 
to  watch  the  fun. 

Jemileh  went  indoors  to  fetch  refreshments. 
When  she  came  out  again,  she  found  her  mistress 
talking  kindly  to  the  victim. 

"I  am  sorry,"  she  was  saying.  "But  of  course 
your  people  wish  to  see  you.  They  must  feel  quite 
neglected.  You  have  been  so  much  at  Deyr  Amun." 

"What's  this,  Percy-boy?  Why,  you're  never  go- 
ing to  leave  us  ?"  cried  Jack  heartily.  "Fenn,  Fenn ! 
Do  you  hear  that?  Percy's  going.  I'm  quite 
sorry." 

"And  I'm  real  sorry  too,"  said  Percy  with  emo- 
tion. "It's  been  bully  foolin'  round  with  you  bright 
boys.  But  I've  got  work  to  do.  I  guess  I  must 
quit  foolin'  here  and  now  and  say  'Good-bye.' ' 

When  he  could  escape  from  the  farewells  of  the 
Khawajah  Jack,  he  added  for  the  ear  of  Elsie 
only — 

"You'll  maybe  recollect  those  words  of  yours 
which  put  me  on  to  this  same  work.  I  think  about 
those  words.  They  kind  o'  burn  me.  You'll  have 
forgotten,  I  daresay,  but  I  shall  remember  those 
same  words  o'  yours  till  Judgment  Day." 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  149 

So  saying,  he  strode  off  with  dignity.  Jemileh 
guessed  that  he  was  mad  with  hidden  rage. 

"What  serious  work  can  such  a  fellow  have  to 
do?"  asked  Fenn,  incredulous. 

"It  is  missionary  work,"  Jemileh  answered 
gravely. 

"Our  Percy-boy!  Great  Snakes!"  cried  the 
Khawajah  Jack.  He  was  going  to  say  more,  but 
Elsie's  face  forbade  him.  She  nodded  towards  their 
aunt,  who  was  in  hearing. 

"He  may  be  more  in  earnest  than  I  thought  at 
one  time,"  murmured  Elsie. 

"Percy  earnest?  I  protest!"  sneered  the  Khaw- 
ajah Fenn.  Jemileh  ran  indoors  to  cry  unseen. 


XVII 

THE  house  of  Amin  the  murderer  stood  near  to 
that  which,  with  a  cave  for  stable,  Percy  Salaman 
had  rented  for  the  summer  months.  Reclining  in 
the  shade  of  a  pomegranate  bush,  the  only  shelter 
which  his  garden  offered,  the  American  exchanged 
remarks  with  Amin  and  his  wife,  who  came  and  went 
upon  their  housetop  just  below.  His  servant  bor- 
rowed household  necessaries  from  these  neighbours, 
and  an  alliance  thus  sprang  up  between  the  houses 
highly  gratifying  to  the  social  spirit  of  Amin. 

This  man's  portion  in  the  world  had  been  a  very 
hard  one.  At  the  age  of  seventeen  he  had  struck 
down  a  man  in  anger  and  the  man  had  died.  By 
favour  of  the  father  of  the  Sheykh  Bakir,  who,  pity- 
ing his  youth,  paid  up  the  blood-money,  he  went  un- 
punished for  that  first  offence;  and  the  fact  that 
he  had  felt  no  fear  nor  any  pangs  of  nausea  after 
the  killing  gained  him  a  name  for  courage  and  fe- 
rocity, which  he  strove  to  justify. 

Two  years  later  he  had  killed  a  Muslim,  who  was 
resting  by  the  wayside  and  happened  to  insult  him 
at  his  work  in  the  fields.  On  this  occasion  he  ex- 
perienced both  fear  and  nausea;  but  fear  predomi- 
nated, for  the  government  was  moved,  and  the  Mus- 

150 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  151 

lims  of  the  neighbourhood  called  loud  for  vengeance. 
His  conscience,  too,  was  troubled  with  a  sickening 
dread  lest  by  so  bad  a  killing  he  had  forfeited  salva- 
tion. He  had  hurried  to  the  priest,  who  reassured 
him  on  this  point,  but  laid  it  as  a  charge  upon  him 
that  he  should  not  thenceforth  slay  in  wantonness 
or  anger,  but  only  for  the  honour  of  the  Orthodox 
community.  On  that  condition  Antun  gave  him  ab- 
solution, and,  further,  laid  his  case  before  the  Pa- 
triarch, who  used  his  privileged  position  with  the 
Turkish  government  to  reduce  his  sentence  to  a 
year's  imprisonment. 

Amin  had  been  profoundly  grateful  at  the  time, 
but  in  after  years  he  sometimes  wished  that  he  had 
never  sought  protection  of  the  Church.  For  what- 
ever any  prior,  bishop  or  arch-priest  commanded  he 
was  forced  to  do;  and  they  occasionally  ordered 
deeds  which  made  him  vomit,  and  robbed  him  of  his 
rest  for  nights  together.  Besides,  those  holy  men 
paid  badly,  if  they  paid  at  all ;  obliging  him,  for  his 
living,  to  take  private  orders,  which  defiled  his  soul, 
and  drove  him  to  the  priest  once  more,  to  deeper 
bondage.  The  sense  of  grievance  which  his  plight 
engendered  was  plainly  legible  upon  his  handsome 
face,  and  in  the  listless  droop  of  his  broad  shoulders. 
He  dealt  in  moral  sentiments,  deplored  all  violence, 
and  sorrowed  for  the  evil  that  is  in  the  world. 

When  Percy  Salaman,  a  man  of  education  and 
refinement,  betrayed  a  liking  for  his  company  he 
was  enraptured;  and  did  his  utmost  by  politeness 


152  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

to  mitigate  the  bad  impression  of  his  name.  He 
thought  at  last  that  he  had  found  a  man  in  whose 
society  he  might  forget  his  ignominy  for  a  while. 
But  after  a  few  days  he  told  his  wife — 

"God  help  me,  I  cannot  escape  from  evil  talk. 
Even  this  Amerikani  speaks  of  bloodshed,  and 
wishes  me  to  tell  him  of  my  evil  deeds.  A  man  who 
never  in  his  lifetime  killed  a  fly,  he  fails  to  realize 
the  horror  of  the  things  he  says." 

But  the  companionship  of  the  American  remained 
desirable,  since  it  exalted  him  in  the  opinion  of  the 
villagers ;  and,  having  something  of  a  workman's 
pride  in  his  profession,  he  did  not  always,  in  reply 
to  Percy's  questions,  repel  what  he  considered  an 
unhealthy  curiosity. 

When  Percy  came  to  him  one  afternoon  and,  after 
compliments,  inquired  if  it  were  possible  to  deal  a 
man  what  should  appear  to  every  one  to  be  a  serious 
wound,  without  the  slightest  danger  to  his  life,  he 
answered  readily — 

"As  to  danger  to  his  life,  Yes ;  but  as  to  the  sub- 
sequent health  of  the  individual  one  cannot  foretell 
with  certainty.  All  would  depend  on  the  condition 
of  his  body  at  the  moment  when  the  wound  was  dealt. 
If  he  were  a  healthy  man,  the  wound  would  heal  with 
very  little  damage  to  his  constitution." 

He  then  proceeded  to  explain  the  relative  position 
of  the  vital  organs  in  the  human  body,  using  Percy's 
silken  shirt-front  as  a  chart. 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  153 

"Come  into  my  house,"  said  Percy,  trembling  with 
emotion.  "There  we  can  talk  more  privately." 

It  was  the  day  of  his  revolt  against  his  perse- 
cutors. His  farewell  words  to  Elsie  burnt  his  brain. 
He  saw  himself  a  much-wronged  man,  a  most  pa- 
thetic object,  and  wished  to  make  Miss  Wilding  so 
behold  him.  He  pictured  himself  dead  at  her  feet 
— not  dead,  that  is,  but  dying,  able  still  to  hear 
her  words  of  sorrow,  her  passion  of  too-late  repent- 
ance for  her  treatment  of  him  while  he  lived.  On 
the  walk  back  to  his  house,  the  blazing  sun  had 
seemed  like  darkness,  the  mountain  landscape  was  a 
queer  mirage  which  came  and  went.  They  thought 
he  was  a  coward.  They  thought  his  talk  of  danger 
foolish  nonsense.  They  should  see. 

Having  brought  the  murderer  into  his  house,  in- 
stalled him  comfortably  on  the  divan,  and  placed 
a  box  of  cigarettes  close  to  his  hand,  he  put  the  sim- 
ple question — 

"Can  you  deal  me  such  a  wound  as  that  we  spoke 
of — serious  to  all  appearance,  but  not  mortal?" 

"God  forbid!"  exclaimed  the  murderer  with  hor- 
ror. "Your  honour  does  but  jest  with  me,  please 
God!" 

"Nay,  I  am  in  earnest.  In  the  name  of  Allah,  do 
me  this  great  service.  It  is  most  important." 

"Not  for  all  the  wealth  of  all  America!"  declared 
Amin.  "Thou  hast  been  kind  to  me.  The  Lord 
forbid  that  I  should  shed  thy  honoured  blood.  By 
Allah,  no!  I  count  thee  as  my  friend." 


154  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

"But  I  desire  it!  It  is  the  best  service  that  a 
friend  could  do  me.  Listen  only,"  pleaded  Percy, 
with  the  greater  eagerness  because  he  now  began 
to  think  the  deed  impossible.  He  told  Amin  the 
story  of  his  wooing  of  the  Englishwoman,  of  the 
insults  he  had  suffered  in  her  presence  at  a  rival's 
hands,  of  the  doubt  that  had  been  thrown  upon  his 
courage  and  veracity. 

"In  thy  place  I  should  wound  my  rival,  not  my- 
self," remarked  Amin.  "My  aim  would  be  to  carry 
off  the  girl." 

"How  can  I?  They  are  English  and  protected. 
I  know  the  lady.  She  would  hate  me  more  than  ever. 
Do  as  I  ask  thee,  for  our  Saviour's  love !" 

"But  thou  art  an  American.  Never  yet  hava 
I  attacked  a  foreign  subject.  It  is  much  too  dan- 
gerous." 

"But  since  thou  doest  it  at  my  command,  what 
ails  thee?  It  is  between  ourselves,  and  I  shall  hold 
thee  guiltless.  Be  kind,  O  my  beloved!  I  will  pay 
thee  well." 

"How  much?"  inquired  Amin,  still  very  dubious. 

It  happened  at  that  moment  that  remembrance 
of  his  griefs  surged  up  in  Percy's  spirit  overwhelm- 
ingly. In  the  anguish  of  self-pity  he  cried,  "Fifty 
pounds !" 

"I  say  not  No.  Let  me  consider  of  the  matter," 
sighed  Amin,  minded  to  lay  the  case  before  the 
priest,  who  kept  his  conscience,  before  deciding  to 
accept  the  handsome  offer.  No  serious  damage  need 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  155 

be  done  to  the  American.  A  few  flesh  wounds  were 
all  that  he  required.  But  the  idea  of  shedding  a 
friend's  blood  displeased  him.  It  seemed  as  if  it 
might  be  sinful;  but  the  priest  would  know. 

"It  must  be  done  this  very  night,"  cried  Percy 
fiercely.  "I  cannot  live  despised  another  day.  They 
think  I  am  a  liar.  They  must  know  that  I  spoke 
truth." 

Now  Antun,  as  the  murderer  well  knew,  had  gone 
that  morning  to  the  city  and  would  not  return  till 
night.  There  was  thus  no  hope  of  seeing  him  be- 
fore the  deed.  Well,  fifty  pounds  was  a  great  sum, 
the  possession  of  which  would  free  a  man  for  ever 
from  the  need  to  kill,  allowing  him  to  go  and  settle 
in  some  other  village,  buy  a  coffee-shop,  and  lead 
the  quiet  life  his  soul  desired. 

"Where  is  the  money?"  he  inquired  at  length. 

"I  have  here  twenty  pounds  which  I  brought 
hither  for  my  rent.  The  rest  I  will  give  order  to 
be  paid  to  thee." 

Percy  went  and  fetched  the  money,  which  Amin 
accepted  with  the  utmost  reverence.  Having  stowed 
it  in  the  bosom  of  his  robe,  he  said  respectfully, 
"Now  be  so  good  as  to  undo  thy  shirt  in  front.  I 
wish  to  see  the  ground  where  I  must  work,  to  avoid 
accidents." 

While  the  murderer  was  prodding  at  his  chest  and 
ribs,  the  patient  smoked  a  cigarette  with  careless 
mien. 

"Now  by  my  life,  thou  art  a  lion !"  cried  Amin 


156  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

admiringly.  "Forgive  me,  O  my  lord,  if  I  confess 
that  I  had  judged  thee  something  of  a  craven.  The 
highly  educated  and  refined  are  often  so.  But  edu- 
cation has  not  robbed  thee  of  thy  manhood.  By 
Allah,  I  myself  should  shudder  at  the  thought  of 
being  wounded  without  anger." 

Such  praise  from  one  whose  trade  was  bravery 
excited  Percy,  and  the  vision  of  himself  as  a  great 
hero  prevented  him  from  thinking  of  the  operation. 
He  knew  that  it  was  better  not  to  think  of  that. 
He  could  not  eat  the  supper  which  his  servant 
brought  to  him,  but  drank  a  quantity  of  wine  and 
smoked  continuously.  His  servant  went  to  rest. 
The  house  was  still.  The  only  sound  that  reached 
him  from  without  was  the  distant  howling  of  a  jackal 
on  the  mountain-side.  At  last  there  came  the  soft 
knock  at  the  door. 

Amin  had  brought  a  lantern  with  him.  "Come!" 
he  said. 

Percy  assumed  his  straw  hat  with  the  garish  rib- 
bon, and  his  gold-mounted  cane.  His  heart  beat 
in  his  head,  as  he  went  down  the  terraces,  following 
in  the  footsteps  of  the  murderer,  who  held  the  light. 
The  night  was  very  still  and  dark  beneath  the  stars. 
It  seemed  to  Percy  that  the  whole  world  held  its 
breath  until  a  certain  moment  which  was  fast  ap- 
proaching. 

"Where  dost  thou  wish  that  I  should  do  the  work 
upon  thee,  O  my  dear  lord?"  inquired  Amin  with 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  157 

reverence.  "Near  the  lady's  house,  thy  word  was. 
Is  this  near  enough?" 

Percy  gasped  assent.  He  wished  to  say  that 
there  was  no  immediate  hurry,  that  they  might  sit 
down  together  for  a  minute  and  discuss  the  matter. 
But  his  tongue  was  heavy. 

"I  shall  not  wound  thee  deeply.  Have  no  fear!" 
Amin  assured  him.  "The  pain  will  not  be  half  so 
bad  as  toothache,  thou  wilt  see.  I  would  earn  the 
wealth  thou  givest  me.  Stand  very  still." 

Amin  held  up  the  lantern,  looking  hard  at 
Percy's  ribs.  In  his  hand  was  a  long  knife,  which 
gleamed  a  little.  The  victim  tried  to  pray,  but  every 
word  of  prayer  escaped  his  memory. 

"Good !  That  is  perfect,"  said  Amin.  "Continue 
so!" 

But  at  the  first  plunge  of  the  steel  in  his  expect- 
ant flesh,  Percy  became  himself  again.  His  tongue 
was  loosed.  He  struggled  furiously  with  Amin. 
He  clutched  the  knife.  It  cut  his  fingers  to  the 
bone.  He  gave  a  yell.  The  murderer  let  fall  the  lan- 
tern and  pressed  a  hand  upon  his  mouth,  crying: 
"Be  silent !  Wouldst  alarm  the  neighbourhood  ? 
Keep  still,  I  tell  thee.  I  must  earn  the  money." 

For  answer  Percy  bit  the  hand  which  stopped  his 
mouth. 

A  sudden  anger  took  possession  of  Amin.  The 
American  had  tempted  him  to  do  the  deed  against 
his  conscience,  yet  now  cried  out  for  help.  He 
scented  treachery.  "Take  that,  and  that,  and  that, 


158  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

O  son  of  evil!"  he  exclaimed,  slashing  at  his  assail- 
ant till  the  latter  fainted.  The  lantern  had  gone 
out.  Amin  relighted  it.  He  stood  and  looked  down 
at  his  work.  Again  the  wave  of  anger  rocked  his 
brain,  impelling  him  to  make  an  end  of  such  a  craven 
wretch.  He  prayed  to  Heaven,  and  it  passed  with- 
out harm  done,  leaving  him  penitent.  He  bent  over 
the  body  and  examined  it.  As  far  as  he  could  judge 
there  was  no  deadly  wound. 

Remembering  the  twenty  pounds  he  had  received, 
he  carried  Percy  in  his  arms  from  the  secluded  olive- 
grove  where  he  had  done  the  work,  up  a  rough  path, 
on  to  the  terrace  of  the  Englishwoman's  house,  leav- 
ing behind  his  lantern.  He  gave  a  call  for  help, 
then  vaulted  the  low  wall,  retrieved  his  lantern,  and 
went  home  in  great  distress  of  mind. 


XVIII 

JEMILEH  was  awakened  by  the  thud  of  earth 
thrown  up  against  her  window.  "Come  down !"  cried 
Faris  in  a  mighty  whisper.  "Here  is  Barsi,  dying. 
I  smelt  a  trick  at  first,  but  he  bleeds  truly,  for  my 
hands  are  wet."  Jemileh,  in  a  frenzy  of  alarm, 
slipped  on  a  dress  and  ran  to  wake  her  mistress.  In 
a  minute  the  whole  household  was  astir.  The  Khaw- 
ajah Jack  and  the  Khawajah  Fenn,  a  cousin  of  Je- 
mileh, and  her  aunt  who  did  the  housework,  Miss 
Sophy  Berenger  and  Elsie  flew  downstairs  in  hurried 
clothing.  The  lifeless  form  of  Percy  Salaman  was 
lifted  up  by  the  two  Englishmen  more  gently  than 
Jemileh  would  have  thought  it  possible  for  such 
rough  beings  to  have  handled  anything. 

"Well,  I'm  jiggered!"  said  Khawajah  Jack,  with 
real  emotion.  "Our  Percy-boy,  who  wouldn't  hurt 
a  flea !  What  a  d — d  shame !  Who  did  it,  do  you 
think?" 

"I  think  the  Muslims  did  it.  He  was  trying  to 
confert  them.  They  are  such  fanatical  bad  beeble," 
said  Jemileh,  weeping. 

"Oh,  rubbish !"  returned  Jack,  incredulous. 

"No  Moslem  living  would  take  Percy  seriously! 
More  likely  he'd  been  fooling  with  some  girl." 

159 


160  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

"No,  sir,"  replied  Jemileh,  with  some  bitterness. 
"You  neffer  understood.  He  was  an  earnest  Chris- 
tian." 

She  used  the  past  tense  naturally,  so  complete 
was  her  impression  of  a  great  catastrophe. 

The  wounded  man  was  placed  in  Jack's  own  bed, 
his  wounds  were  washed  and  bandaged.  They  were 
many  and  had  caused  much  loss  of  blood.  None 
present  knew  enough  about  such  matters  to  be  sure 
that  he  was  not  upon  the  point  of  death. 

After  all  that  any  one  could  think  of  had  been 
done,  Jemileh,  weeping  at  her  bedroom  window, 
watched  the  dawn  steal  up  the  wady  from  the  distant 
plain. 

By  good  fortune  it  was  Dr.  Wilson's  day  to  visit 
Deyr  Amun.  Faris  was  sent  off  on  horseback  to- 
wards Ai'neyn  with  orders  to  bring  him  to  Miss 
Wilding's  house  without  delay.  He  arrived  about 
the  third  hour  of  the  day,  and  with  him  Percy's 
father,  the  Khawajah  Yusuf,  the  latter  in  a  trans- 
port of  alarm.  The  doctor,  after  brief  examination 
of  the  wounds,  was  of  opinion  that  they  could  be 
healed  in  a  few  days.  Percy,  by  that  time  conscious, 
heard  the  verdict  and  emitted  a  sepulchral  groan, 
closing  his  eyes.  That  groan  revived  suspicion  in 
Jemileh.  She  asked  the  doctor,  who  was  reassuring 
Elsie:  "Sir,  would  it  be  bossible  for  Mr.  Bercy  to 
haf  made  those  wounds  himself?" 

"No,"  said  the  doctor,  after  brief  reflection,  "it 
would  not." 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  161 

"Jemileh !  How  absurd  you  are !"  cried  Elsie. 
"Do  you  imagine  he  attempted  suicide?" 

Jemileh  held  her  tongue,  but  thought  the  more. 
Returning  to  the  sickroom  after  all  the  English 
had  gone  down  to  the  dispensary,  she  received  a 
smile  from  Percy,  with  the  words — 

"Well,  here  I  am  at  last!  The  Sitt  leans  over 
me.  Her  brother  and  that  rascal  now  feel  shame. 
By  Allah,  it  is  worth  the  fear  of  death,  the  bitter 
anguish." 

"Who  did  it?"  asked  Jemileh  softly,  as  she 
smoothed  his  pillow. 

"A  Muslim  who  had  knowledge  of  my  mission," 
answered  Percy,  with  a  grin.  He  would  not  tell  her 
more  than  that.  There  was  a  mystery. 

Five  minutes  later  she  was  out  of  doors  and  trip- 
ping daintily  toward  the  village,  wearing  her  black 
mantilla  and  white  cotton  gloves,  and  carrying  her 
parasol.  Her  first  thought  was  to  call  upon  Amin 
the  murderer,  but  courage  failed  her,  since  he  might 
be  rude.  The  priest  knew  all  that  happened  in  the 
village,  and  he  had  always  been  polite  to  her.  Ac- 
cordingly, she  struck  into  a  path  which  led  by  many 
terraces  up  to  the  platform  by  the  church,  where 
Antun  lived  in  a  small  flat-roofed  house. 

His  wife  was  sitting  in  the  doorway  grinding  corn 
in  a  small  hand-mill,  a  horde  of  children  playing  in 
the  gloom  behind  her. 

"Our  father  is  in  church,"  she  told  Jemileh,  paus- 
ing in  her  work  of  grinding  to  push  the  hair  out  of 


162  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

her  eyes.    "Be  kind,  come  in  and  take  refreshment." 

Jemileh  thanked  her,  but  went  on  into  the  church. 
At  first  she  could  distinguish  nothing  in  the  gloom 
except  the  flicker  of  a  votive-candle  near  the  sanc- 
tuary gates.  From  without  she  had  imagined  she 
heard  voices,  but  when  she  entered  all  was  silent. 

The  voice  of  Antun  close  beside  her  made  her 
jump. 

"What  is  thy  errand,  O  my  daughter?" 

"I  have  need  of  counsel." 

The  priest  said  to  some  other  person :  "Go  outside 
and  wait."  There  was  a  noise  of  slip-shod  feet  de- 
parting, the  doorway  was  obscured  a  moment  and 
then  all  was  still. 

"Speak,  O  my  daughter!"  said  the  priest  be- 
nignly, and  Jemileh  told  her  story  plainly,  having 
well  prepared  it. 

"Barsi  pretends  that  the  Muslimin  attacked  him 
because  of  that  mad  plan  of  his  for  their  conver- 
sion," she  concluded.  "It  cannot  be,  and  yet  the 
wounds  are  real.  Help  me  to  solve  the  riddle,  O  my 
father." 

"What  part  have  I  in  the  affairs  of  heretics?" 
said  Antun,  with  a  deprecating  laugh. 

"I  have  a  gift  here  in  my  hand  for  thee.  Be 
kind,  assist  me!" 

For  answer,  the  priest  shouted:  "O  Amin!" 
and  Jemileh  realized  that  the  man  who  had  been 
with  him  when  she  entered  was  the  murderer. 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  163 

"Tell  this  lady  all  that  thou  hast  told  to  me,"  said 
Antun  sternly. 

"Is  it  the  Englishwoman  ?"  asked  Amin,  with  tear- 
ful voice. 

"No,  it  is  the  Sitt  Jemileh.  Have  no  fear.  Thy 
story  will  be  secret  from  the  multitude." 

"By  the  Lord,  I  care  not  though  the  whole  world 
know  it.  All  I  care  for  is  the  pardon  which  thou 
still  withholdest  wrongfully." 

"Well,  tell  thy  story.  After  that  I  will  absolve 
thee." 

The  murderer  then  heaved  a  sigh  and  spoke  as 
follows — 

"I  am  a  poor  man,  O  my  lady,  and  from  my 
youth  up  had  no  fear,  so  that  men  employed  me  to 
do  works  requiring  courage — 

"Shorten  thy  prologue,  O  old  lion,"  said  the 
priest.  "The  lady  cannot  wait  to  hear  the  tale  of 
all  thy  life." 

"About  a  month  ago  there  came  to  the  house  next 
door  to  mine  a  son  of  the  Arabs  who  had  studied  in 
America,  by  name  Barsi,  son  of  Yusuf — 

"All  that  too  is  known.  Eschew  it!"  said  the 
priest. 

Amin  groaned. 

"Yesterday,  about  the  fourth  hour  after  noon,  my 
neighbour  the  Khawajah  Barsi,  the  American  afore- 
said, came  to  my  house  and  asked  if  I  could  wound 
a  man  in  such  a  way  that  he  would  seem  to  others 
at  the  point  of  death,  yet  run  no  danger.  I  an- 


164  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

swered :  'Yes.'  I  showed  him  how  the  business  could 
be  done.  I  will  explain  the  process  to  you,  O  my 
lady.  It  all  depends  on  the  position  of  the  heart 
and  liver.  When  those  are  ascertained — 

"Eschew  that  also!"  cried  the  priest. 

"Curse  thy  father!"  was  the  piteous  answer. 
"Let  me  be!  ...  Well,  this  man,  my  neighbour — 
the  aforesaid  Barsi  son  of  Yusuf,  it  is  understood 
— desired  me  to  inflict  that  wound  upon  his  proper 
person.  Allah  witness  how  I  struggled  to  dissuade 
him.  It  seems  that  he  desires  the  Englishwoman 
and  hit  upon  this  plan  to  gain  her  heart  through 
pity.  He  gave  me  ten  pounds  Turk — a  fortune  for 
a  man  like  me!  Accordingly,  last  night,  when  all 
the  village  slept,  I  took  a.  lantern  and  my  knife 
and  went  and  fetched  him  from  his  dwelling,  which, 
as  I  have  said  already,  O  my  lady,  is  next  door  to 
mine.  I  took  him  to  the  field  beneath  the  English- 
woman's house,  and  there  began  the  operation  he 
required  of  me.  But  he  would  not  keep  still.  He 
struggled  like  a  madman  and  insulted  me  with  evil 
words,  though  all  I  did  was  in  obedience  to  his  own 
command ;  till  anger  overcame  me  and  I  dosed  him 
well  with  flesh-wounds.  Then,  as  he  lay  insensible 
upon  the  ground,  I  thought  upon  his  treason,  and 
an  angry  devil  entered  into  me,  impelling  me  to 
pierce  his  sinful  heart.  I  shut  my  eyes  and  prayed 
to  our  good  Lord  St.  George,  and  presently,  by 
Allah's  grace,  that  devil  left  me.  I  carried  him  to 
the  meydan  before  the  Englishwoman's  house;  I 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  165 

shouted  to  awaken  Faris — who,  as  thou  knowest,  O 
my  lady,  always  sleeps  before  the  door — and  then 
returned  to  my  own  place.  I  could  not  sleep  for 
thinking  of  the  crime  to  which  the  devil  of  my  anger 
had  incited  me;  the  evil  purpose  I  had  harboured 
for  a  moment.  Man's  nature  is  perverse  and  sinful, 
O  my  lady !  On  that  account  I  sought  the  presence 
of  our  father,  to  offer  up  a  tithe  of  what  that  traitor 
gave  me.  Yet  he  withholds  his  absolution,  O  my 
lady.  Is  that  fair?" 

"My  duty  is  to  ascertain  thy  true  repentance," 
laughed  the  priest. 

Turning  to  the  girl  he  asked,  "Well,  art  thou  sat- 
isfied?" 

"By  Allah,  yes !  The  Lord  reward  thee,  O  our 
father !" 

Jemileh  made  her  present  and  departed.  Trip- 
ping homeward  underneath  her  parasol,  she  smiled 
to  think  of  her  command  of  Percy. 

At  a  turn  of  the  path  she  saw  Abdullah  Shukri 
sitting  with  the  headman  of  the  village  in  the  lat- 
ter's  orchard. 

"What  is  this  we  hear  of  the  Amerikani?"  cried 
Abdullah.  "Is  he  quite  killed?" 

"Not  killed,  but  gravely  wounded,"  sighed  Je- 
mileh. 

"By  Allah,  I,  too,  would  be  gravely  wounded, 
and  with  rapture,  for  the  luxury  of  being  tended 
by  the  Sitt  Jemileh,"  shouted  the  servant  of  the 
Sheykh  Bakir  gallantly. 


166  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

"And  I,  too,  old  as  I  am !"  the  headman  chuckled. 

Jemileh  tossed  her  head  at  them  and  tripped 
away.  In  a  flash  she  had  perceived  what  would  be 
said  in  Deyr  Amun;  that  she  had  shown  favour  to 
the  Amerikani,  talking  alone  with  him  beyond  dis- 
cretion, and  that  one  of  her  relations  had  attacked 
him  in  defence  of  her  good  name.  She  laughed  aloud 
in  exultation.  It  seemed  impossible  for  Percy  to 
escape  her  now. 


XIX 

HAVING  ascertained  that  the  English  were  still  at 
the  dispensary,  Jemileh  entered  Percy's  bedroom 
carrying  a  glass  of  milk  with  care  for  her  black 
gown.  The  room  was  darkened  by  Venetian  blinds, 
between  the  slats  of  which  pushed  little  spokes  of 
dusty  sunbeam,  laying  streaks  of  light  across  the 
bed  and  floor. 

Percy  turned  uneasily. 

"Who  is  it?"  he  inquired  in  an  expiring  voice. 
On  hearing  "It  is  I,  Jemileh,"  in  his  native  Arabic, 
he  gave  a  sigh  of  vast  relief.  He  begged  Jemileh 
for  the  love  of  Allah  to  bring  in  a  barber. 
Black  bristles  stood  out  on  his  cheeks  and  chin.  His 
hair  was  towsled.  He  would  not  have  the  Sitt  be- 
hold him  thus.  It  seemed  he  had  been  out  of  bed 
and  at  the  looking-glass.  Jemileh  paid  no  heed  to 
his  request.  Adjusting  the  Venetian  blind,  she  mur- 
mured— 

"By  Allah,  I  admire  thy  strategy!  It  was  well 
planned.  But  why  couldst  thou  not  keep  still  while 
he  was  wounding  thee  at  thy  command?"  Percy 
gave  a  start  and  then  lay  still  as  death.  Jemileh 
stood  and  looked  at  him  awhile;  then,  setting  down 
the  glass  of  milk  upon  the  commode,  said  demurely: 

167 


168  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

"You  must  drink  this  dose.  It  is  the  Sitt's  com- 
mand," and  left  him;  nor  did  she  return  that  day, 
except  in  company  with  one  or  other  of  the  English 
ladies. 

News  of  the  attempt  upon  the  life  of  Percy  Sala- 
man,  carried  to  the  city  by  the  doctor,  and  there 
repeated  with  exaggerations  and  conjectures,  had 
caused  intense  excitement  in  the  Protestant  com- 
munity. 

On  the  day  after  Jemileh's  visit  to  the  priest,  a 
troop  of  missionaries,  male  and  female,  rode  to  Deyr 
Amun  to  make  inquiries.  All  the  men  were  armed. 

"We  have  not  come  to  be  a  burden  on  your  hos- 
pitality," the  Presbyterian  minister  said  to  Elsie. 
"We  have  brought  our  own  provisions  and  will  pic- 
nic on  your  terrace  if  you  will  permit  it.  But  hear- 
ing that  the  Muslims  of  A'ineyn  and  Makarah  had 
risen  with  intent  to  slaughter  every  soul  in  Deyr 
Amun,  and  though  we  did  not  quite  believe  the  ru- 
mour, we  thought  it  right  to  come  and  see  how 
you  were  placed.  Miss  Berenger  is  very  anxious. 
She  wishes  you  and  Miss  Sophia  to  return  with  us 
to-night." 

"But  all  is  quiet  here,  as  you  perceive,"  said  Elsie, 
laughing.  "Mr.  Salaman  was  attacked  the  night 
before  last  and  badly  wounded — he  declares  by  Mus- 
lims, but  Mr.  Fenn  and  my  brother  think  it  much 
more  likely  that  there  is  some  private  scandal  which 
he  hides  from  us." 

"I   will   interrogate   him,"   said   the   minister  ju- 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  169 

dicially.  "There  may,  I  think,  be  truth  in  what  he 
says.  His  father,  a  most  earnest  man,  believes  his 
story." 

The  Khawajah  Yusuf  was  beside  himself  with 
fatherly  emotions  and  a  sense  of  new  importance. 
He  had  spent  the  night  at  Percy's  little  house,  and 
stated  his  intention  to  remain  there  till  his  son  was 
well.  In  his  opinion  fresh  attacks  might  be  ex- 
pected any  minute.  When  informed  of  the  reports 
of  general  massacre  current  in  the  city,  he  shook 
his  head  with  pursed-up  lips  and  a  portentous 
frown.  His  speech  was  prayer  to  God  for  the  pro- 
tection of  his  chosen,  mingled  with  threats  of  ven- 
geance on  the  Muslim  population.  They  should 
learn  that  they  could  not  assail  a  Christian  with  im- 
punity. His  son  was  an  American  subject.  The 
Americans  would  take  the  matter  up  and,  if  the 
Turkish  government  made  no  redress,  would  send  a 
fleet  and  army  to  destroy  it.  He  paced  the  terrace 
by  the  hour  together,  accompanied  by  any  one  who 
cared  to  listen,  clasping  his  hands  and  casting  up 
his  brimming  eyes  to  heaven. 

The  other  missionaries  sat  beneath  the  pine-trees 
on  the  terrace. 

"Where  is  Mr.  Jones?"  asked  some  one. 

"He  brays  with  my  boor  son,"  said  the  Khawajah 
Yusuf. 

"Is  it  a  concert?"  Jack  inquired  of  Mrs.  Edison, 
the  wife  of  a  stout  red-faced  man  who  kept  an  or- 
phanage for  little  Jews,  a  lady  with  a  latent  sense 


170  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

of  humour.  "Poor  Percy!  Five  persons  have  been 
up  to  'bray'  with  him  already." 

Percy  indeed  was  in  a  desperate  condition.  Since 
Jemileh  had  revealed  her  knowledge  of  his  secret, 
he  wished  to  speak  to  her  and  no  one  else.  But 
missionary  after  missionary  came  and  prayed  with 
him,  and  forced  him  to  re-tell  the  tale  of  his  assassi- 
nation, which  he  was  now  extremely  nervous  of  re- 
peating, since  Jemileh  knew  the  truth  and  might 
have  mentioned  it.  His  father  kept  approaching  his 
bedside  with  talk  about  the  Consul's  interference, 
meant  to  soothe,  which  maddened  him. 

"I  will  not  have  the  Consul  told!"  he  moaned  at 
length.  "I  do  not  know  the  names  of  my  assail- 
ants. They  were  many.  It  was  dark,  and  I  could 
not  identify  them.  The  innocent  might  suffer  if  the 
Consul  moved.  I  will  not  have  it." 

It  was  of  some  slight  comfort  to  him  to  reflect 
that  the  American  Consul  lived  two  hundred  miles 
away,  and  that  the  Vice-Consul  in  the  city  was  a 
native  Christian  and  a  friend  of  his,  whom  he  could 
easily  dissuade  from  taking  any  action. 

"It  is  known  that  they  were  Muslims  of  Ai'neyn," 
objected  the  Khawajah  Yusuf. 

"Who  knows  that?  I,  the  one  they  murdered,  do 
not  know  it.  Wouldst  thou  take  vengeance  on  the 
innocent?  Give  up  all  thought  of  prosecution,  O 
my  father!" 

The  Khawajah  Yusuf,  speechless  with  surprise, 
threw  up  his  hands  towards  Heaven  and  prayed  si- 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  171 

lently.  He  then  rejoined  the  company  upon  the  ter- 
race, big  with  the  tidings  that  his  son  forgave  his 
murderers. 

The  wife  of  the  Presbyterian  minister  was  em- 
ployed upon  a  water-colour  drawing.  Mrs.  Edison 
had  brought  some  fancy  needlework,  Miss  Jones  was 
darning  stockings.  Miss  MacDougal,  who  possessed 
some  youthful  charm,  was  interposing  a  good  book 
when  necessary  between  her  countenance  and  the 
audacious  eyes  of  Jack.  The  men  sat  in  a  group 
apart  with  Elsie,  discussing  Percy's  case  in  a  judicial 
way. 

"His  scheme,  as  he  explained  it  to  me,  is  not  alto- 
gether bad,"  said  Mr.  Jones,  "though  marred,  of 
course,  by  the  peculiar  failings  of  these  people  who 
never  can  dissociate  religion  from  commercial  and 
political  advantage.  Up  to  a  certain  point  it  is  as- 
tute. If  one  converts  a  Muslim  one  must  find  pro- 
vision for  him  in  some  foreign  country.  He  cannot 
remain  here  in  peril  of  his  life.  But  the  provision 
which  poor  Salaman  had  found  reminds  one  rather  of 
the  slave-trade.  If  he  had  such  a  scheme  and  it  got 
known  among  the  Muslims,  it  would  quite  account  for 
the  attempt  to  take  his  life.  The  one  great  obstacle 
to  my  accepting  that  hypothesis  is  the  fact  that 
Percy  Salaman  is  the  last  man  who  would  ever  have 
thought  of  doing  missionary  work." 

"I  think  I  can  explain  that,"  put  in  Elsie,  with  a 
blush.  "He  has  talked  to  me  a  great  deal  lately,  and 
has  asked  me  for  advice.  I  once  said  that  I  thought 


172  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

we  missionaries  should  pay  more  attention  to  the 
Muslims.  He  seemed  struck  with  the  idea.  Soon 
after  that  he  told  me  that  he  had  this  scheme." 

"Ah,"  remarked  the  Presbyterian  minister,  nod- 
ding his  head  with  ponderous  sagacity.  "The  motive 
is  now  clear.  I  see  no  further  cause  to  question  his 
veracity.  But  you  will  permit  me  to  remark,  my  dear 
young  lady,  that  one  cannot  talk  thus  lightly  of  con- 
verting Muslims." 

"The  difficulties  in  the  way  would  disappear,  I 
fancy,  if  any  one  attacked  them  boldly,"  answered 
Elsie,  flushing. 

"I  daresay  others  of  us  thought  so  once,"  said  Mr. 
Jones. 

The  Khawajah  Yusuf  now  drew  near  the  group. 
"Oh,  gentlemen  and  miss,"  he  cried.  "You  haf  not 
heard !  My  son  forgifs  his  enemies.  He  will  not  haf 
them  bunished.  Oh,  what  a  Christian  sbirit!  I  am 
fery  broud!" 

Jemileh,  in  the  meanwhile,  had  gone  up  with  her 
aunt  into  the  sickroom  to  keep  Percy  company.  The 
old  woman's  presence,  though  it  saved  propriety,  did 
not  preclude  free  conversation,  since  she  knew  no 
English.  Percy  saw  the  chance  for  which  he  had  for 
hours  been  praying.  "Why  did  you  keep  away?" 
he  asked  in  lamentable  tones.  "After  what  you  told 
me  this  time  yesterday,  you  bet  I  wished  to  see  you 
pretty  bad." 

"I  haf  to  be  so  fery  careful,"  said  Jemileh,  with 
eyes  downcast.  "Beeble  in  the  fillage  sbeak  bad 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  173 

things  because  I  talk  with  you.  Now,  since  you've 
been  hurt,  they  say  some  relatifs  of  mine  have  done 
it  'cause  of  that.  They're  fery  wicked,  fery  cruel 
beeble."  She  heaved  a  sigh,  then  hung  her  head  for- 
lornly. She  knew  that  Percy's  face  expressed  sur- 
prise and  rapture.  Her  knees  gave  way.  A  thrill 
passed  through  her  frame  from  head  to  foot.  There 
followed  a  long  pause  ere  Percy  spoke. 

"Sakes !"  he  exclaimed.  "To  think  I  never  saw 
it !  It's  you  that's  the  girl  for  me,  and  not  that  yal- 
ler-haired  refrigerator.  A  peach  you  are  and  no 
mistake.  If  ever  I  get  quit  of  this  here  fix,  I'll  take 
and  ask  you  to  be  Mrs.  Salaman  directly!" 

"I  couldn't  leaf  Miss  Elsie,"  sighed  Jemileh,  weep- 
ing softly. 

"I  reckon  she'll  be  leaving  you  right  now.  That 
grinnin'  feller  Fenn  he'll  catch  her,  sure." 

"You  really  do  not  think  about  her  any  more?" 
she  whispered.  "I  thought  that  you  would  neffer 
notice  boor  Jemileh." 

"I  was  a  fool,  I  tell  you,  miss — stone-blind  and 
mad,  that's  what  I  was.  I  let  'em  have  me  on,  I  see 
that  plain  this  minute.  Say,  though,  you  haven't 
told  them  what  you  know  about  this  business?  You 
won't  let  on?" 

"No,  no.     I  haf  told  no  one,"  sobbed  Jemileh. 

Percy  took  her  hand,  which  rested  on  the  counter- 
pane. Calling  her  every  kind  of  tender  name,  he 
asked  her  to  befriend  him  in  his  miserable  plight. 
The  first  thing  was  to  make  the  English  give  up  all 


174  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

idea  of  an  inquiry  or  any  punishment  for  the  attack 
on  him. 

"They  cannot  stob  it,"  whispered  Jemileh,  with  a 
sudden  tremor.  "The  Sheykh  Bakir  and  all  his  men 
inquire.  Who  knows  what  they  discofer?"  Her  con- 
cern was  real,  for  she  feared  to  lose  her  new  command 
of  Percy  if  his  deceit  became  the  common  property. 

Percy  implored  her  to  approach  the  mudir,  to 
lie  in  wait  for  him  if  need  be,  and  persuade  him  to 
hush  up  the  matter.  Jemileh,  anxious  on  her  own 
account,  required  no  urging. 

The  Sheykr  Bakir,  attended  by  Abdullah  Shukri 
and  two  Turkish  soldiers,  returning  from  a  long 
day's  ride,  was  much  surprised  to  see  Jemileh  rise 
before  him  at  the  point  where  the  path  to  the  Eng- 
lishwoman's house  diverged  from  the  paved  mule- 
track  through  the  village. 

"What  hast  thou  discovered,  O  my  lord?"  she  ques- 
tioned eagerly. 

"Everything!"  he  answered  in  exultant  tones. 

"Keep  the  matter  secret,  for  the  love  of  Allah,  O 
my  lord!  What  profit  is  it  to  expose  his  cunning, 
since  already  he  is  out  of  favour  with  my  lady?  He 
makes  no  claim,  and  will  repress  all  outcry.  Publish 
the  matter  and  the  Franks  will  say,  'It  is  the  way  of 
the  sons  of  the  Arabs.  There  is  no  faith  in  them.' 
As  if  we  were  devoid  of  decency !" 

"There  is  sense  in  what  she  says,"  observed  Ab- 
dullah Shukri. 

"Would  to  Allah  I  had  known  of  this  ere  I  set  out 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  175 

this  morning!"  sighed  Bakir  despondently.  "Sup- 
posing that  the  Consul  would  be  seeking  blood  for  the 
affair,  we  rode  to  Aineyn,  thence  to  Makarah,  then 
back  to  Deyr  Amun  to  seek  Amin  the  murderer.  The 
man  had  fled.  We  followed  him  to  Kefr  Joz,  and 
there  we  found  him,  hiding  in  an  oven.  We  brought 
him  back  and  have  just  left  him  at  his  house,  at  lib- 
erty upon  the  understanding  that  he  shall  proclaim 
the  truth  to-morrow." 

"Swear  not  to  tell  the  English !"  wailed  Jemileh. 

"On  condition  that  there  shall  be  no  pursuit,  no 
crying  to  the  Consul,  I  here  swear  it  for  thy  pleas- 
ure," said  the  Sheykh  Bakir. 

Jemileh  stooped  and  kissed  his  dusty  riding-boot. 

Returning,  she  found  Percy  out  of  bed,  testing  his 
power  to  walk  with  help  from  Umm  Rashid.  At 
sight  of  her  he  looked  ashamed.  She  made  him  get 
back  into  bed  and  then  reported  her  success  with  the 
mudir. 

"You're  a  true  friend  and  no  mistake!"  cried 
Percy  warmly.  "Say,  though,  it's  no  joke  lyin' 
right  here  in  this  house  with  the  chance  o'  some  one 
tellin'  on  me  any  minute.  I  guess  it's  time  to  quit. 
Clear  out  with  me  to-night.  We'll  get  married  in 
America.  It's  easy  there." 

"Do  not  be  so  hurried,  so  imbatient,"  smiled  Jemi- 
leh. "No  one  shall  know  anything.  You  are  still 
too  ill  to  move.  You'll  see  me  efery  day.  I  shall 
not  fanish.  Haf  no  fear!" 

"I  don't  object  to  staying  where  I  am;  no,  sir," 


176  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

said  Percy  tenderly.     "If  all's  secure.     To  see  you 
every  day  beats  circuses !" 

Jemileh  trod  on  air  as  she  went  out  from  him.  She 
was  unusually  pleasant  to  the  Englishmen  that  even- 
ing, even  jested  with  the  Khawajah  Fenn  in  Arabic. 
At  night  she  could  not  sleep  at  all  for  happiness ;  and 
in  the  morning,  after  much  conferring  with  her  look- 
ing-glass, she  sought  the  sickroom  with  a  beating 
heart.  The  room  was  empty.  Recovering  from  the 
first  shock  of  surprise,  she  went  to  question  Faris, 
who  informed  her  that  Barsi  had  escaped  about  the 
fifth  hour  of  the  night,  soon  after  all  the  other 
khawajat  had  gone  to  bed.  He  had  given  Faris  a 
whole  Turkish  pound  for  supporting  him  upon  the 
walk  to  his  own  house.  Jemileh  bade  her  brother 
hasten  to  that  house  for  news.  In  half-an-hour  he 
came  again  and  told  her  that  Percy  had  been  seen 
at  sunrise  riding  off  in  the  direction  of  the  city  with 
his  father,  his  servant  walking  by  the  horse,  support- 
ing him. 


XX 


Two  hours'  ride  from  Deyr  Amun,  above  a  moun- 
tain gorge  of  some  magnificence,  stands  a  white- 
washed shrine,  its  egg-shaped  dome  surmounted  by 
the  crescent;  and  close  to  it  an  ancient  tree,  a  tere- 
binth, quite  three  parts  dead.  The  shrine  is  said  to 
mark  the  burial  place  of  Seth  the  son  of  Noah ;  and 
the  tree  is  called  the  Prophet's  Tree  from  a  tradition 
that  the  great  Mahomet,  when  a  camel-driver,  rested 
and  prayed  beneath  its  branches.  Except  for  a 
week  in  early  spring  when  pilgrims  flock  there  from 
the  villages,  the  place  is  altogether  lonely,  its  sole 
inhabitant  the  guardian  of  the  shrine,  an  old  blind 
sheykh  of  high  repute  for  sanctity. 

This  personage  had  joined  a  party,  consisting  of 
Miss  Wilding  and  her  brother,  Mr.  Fenn,  Jemileh 
and  the  Sheykh  Bakir,  with  Faris  and  Abdullah 
Shukri  in  attendance,  which  picnicked  there  through 
a  long  summer  day.  He  even  deigned  to  share  the 
food  they  had  brought  with  them,  after  Bakir,  who 
acted  as  interpreter,  had  solemnly  assured  him  it 
contained  no  filth  of  any  kind.  He  showed  them  his 
arrangements  with  some  pride,  the  cistern  whence 
he  drew  his  water,  the  signs — the  breath  of  wind  be- 
fore the  dawn,  the  warmth  of  sunshine  on  a  certain 

177 


178  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

stone — by  which  he  ascertained  the  hours  of  prayer, 
his  store-room  and  his  sleeping-place,  and  many 
talismans. 

"Ask  him  how  he  manages  up  here  all  alone,  blind 
as  he  is,"  said  Elsie  to  her  close  adherent  Richard 
Fenn. 

"He  says  that  here  he  knows  the  way.  He  is  at 
home.  In  a  village  he  would  run  into  men  and  houses, 
or  fall  down  some  well." 

"I  wish  I  could  speak  Arabic  like  you  do,"  mur- 
mured Elsie,  with  a  sigh. 

Jemileh  sat  aloof  beneath  the  terebinth,  and 
watched  the  couple  with  despairing  eyes.  Near  her 
reclined  her  brother  Faris,  half  asleep.  Abdullah 
Shukri,  who  had  clambered  down  the  gorge  a  little 
way,  came  back  and  squatted  on  his  heels  between 
them.  Jemileh  saw  that  he  too  watched  the  lovers. 

"Ma  sh' Allah !"  he  exclaimed  after  a  while.  "May 
they  be  blessed!  The  small  khawajah  merits  happi- 
ness. He  takes  men  as  he  finds  them,  as  God  made 
them.  I  have  heard  my  lord  say  that  his  character 
is  more  that  of  a  good  Turk  than  of  a  Frank.  O 
lady" — here  he  turned  to  face  Jemileh — "what  are 
thy  thoughts  about  this  marriage  which  we  see 
approaching?" 

"I  have  no  thoughts  upon  the  matter,  O  my  dear. 
Is  it  my  business?  But  I  think  it  a  strange  compli- 
ment to  any  Christian  man  to  say  that  he  is  like  a 
Turk,  an  infidel." 

Abdullah  shrugged.     "It  is  my  lord's  opinion,  not 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  179 

my  own  ...  I  know  why  thou  art  saddened,  O 
Jemileh.  It  is  the  thought  of  parting  with  thy  lady. 
But  the  small  khawajah  loves  our  country.  Per- 
haps she  will  not  leave  thee  after  all." 

"Praise  be  to  Allah,  I  am  not  dependent  on  her," 
said  Jemileh  crossly.  "To-morrow,  if  I  wished,  I 
could  obtain  a  post  as  teacher." 

"Aye,  that  is  known,  by  Allah,"  said  Abdullah 
peacefully. 

Jemileh  gazed  upon  the  swell  of  mountain-tops 
which  in  the  cruel  sunlight  seemed  of  bronze,  clench- 
ing her  teeth  and  frowning  to  keep  back  her  tears. 
Since  Percy  had  forsaken  her,  she  felt  forlorn  and 
was  the  victim  of  wild  tempests  of  self-pity.  She 
had  heard  that  Percy  had  fled  to  the  sea-coast  with 
the  intention  of  returning  shortly  to  America.  His 
treason  made  her  cling  to  Elsie  more  devotedly.  But 
Elsie  was  no  longer  quite  the  same,  thanks  to  the 
small  khawajah,  as  the  village  people  called  him.  She 
seemed  entirely  to  have  lost  that  strange  desire  for 
making  converts  which  had  once  alarmed  Jemileh  for 
her  mental  health.  Jemileh's  one  hope  now  was  to  re- 
vive that  madness.  The  small  khawajah  prospered 
in  the  hour  of  Elsie's  sanity.  Her  mania  would 
destroy  him  utterly,  for  he  was  not  religious.  As- 
suredly Miss  Wilding  would  be  shocked  to  hear  that 
the  Sheykh  Bakir  compared  him  to  a  Turk  for  laxity. 

At  length  the  time  came  for  the  start  homeward. 
Paris  and  Abdullah  fetched  the  horses  and  Jemileh's 
donkey.  What  was  left  of  the  provisions  was  given 


180  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

to  the  guardian  of  the  shrine,  who  raised  his  skinny 
arms  and  sightless  eyes  to  Heaven  in  thanksgiving. 
The  sun  was  sinking.  It  was  comparatively  cool  and 
pleasant  riding  on  the  grassy  mountain-top.  Jemi- 
leh  rode  behind  with  Paris  and  Abdullah  Shukri ;  the 
Khawajah  Jack  kept  side  by  side  with  Sheykh 
Bakir;  while  Elsie  and  the  small  khawajah  pushed  on 
far  ahead. 

"What  is  thy  thought,  Abdullah?  Is  the  matter 
fixed,  of  which  thou  spakest?"  whispered  Jemileh 
to  her  right-hand  neighbour.  She  gave  a  nod  in  the 
direction  of  the  lovers,  who  had  reined  up  on  the 
brink  of  the  descent,  waiting  for  somebody  to  show 
the  way.  The  sun's  rays  skimming  the  smooth  down 
illumined  them. 

"Allah  knows !"  was  the  reply.  "With  us,  a 
couple  thus  behaving  would  be  wedded  or  for  ever 
shamed.  But  Franks  are  different.  It  may  be  that 
they  have  not  breathed  a  word  of  love." 

That  was  Jemileh's  own  opinion.  She  decided  to 
warn  Elsie,  since  there  might  still  be  time.  As  she 
rode  down  a  pathway  winding  in  and  out  among 
great  rocks,  where  the  procession  went  in  single  file 
and  at  wide  intervals,  she  thought  of  what  would 
be  her  fate  if  Elsie  married  Mr.  Fenn.  Only  on  one 
condition  would  it  be  endurable:  that  Elsie  should 
keep  on  the  mission,  placing  her  (Jemileh)  in  com- 
mand there.  Jemileh  liked  to  think  of  the  house  as 
a  mission,  of  herself  as  a  missionary,  since  mission- 
aries were  the  richest,  most  important  people  she 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  181 

had  known  in  life.  If  Elsie  married  Fenn — an 
athiest,  a  scoffer  at  all  goodness — she  would  think 
no  more  of  Deyr  Amun,  except  it  might  be  to  sub- 
scribe to  the  dispensary.  She  would  close  without 
regret  the  little  school  which  gave  Jemileh  conse- 
quence among  the  villagers ;  she  would  dismiss 
Jemileh  like  a  servant  with  some  trifling^  gift. 

The  sunset  flamed  and  died.  The  twilight  deep- 
ened. Faris,  who  led  the  way,  had  brought  a  lantern. 
He  lighted  it  and  hung  it  low  to  show  the  ground, 
calling  out  advice  to  those  behind  him.  The  lights 
of  Deyr  Amun  were  in  their  eyes  for  half-anrhour 
before  they  reached  the  fields.  Miss  Sophy  Beren- 
ger,  protected  from  a  distance  by  old  Abu  Faris,  was 
on  the  terrace  of  the  house,  awaiting  them.  She 
said  that  supper  was  quite  ready.  The  Sheykh 
Bakir  was  made  to  stay  and  share  the  meal. 

When  Elsie  hurried  off  to  change  her  riding- 
habit,  Jemileh  went  to  help  her  as  in  duty  bound. 
She  said  how  much  she  had  enjoyed  the  day,  how 
much  she  thanked  her  mistress  for  such  pleasure,  and 
added  in  the  same  tone  of  enthusiasm:  "What  a 
cleffer  man  is  Mr.  Fenn !  He  knows  so  much.  He 
sbeaks  quite  berfect  Arabic.  And  then  he  is  so  good 
and  kind.  The  beeble  luf  him!" 

"He  really  is  a  most  delightful  person,"  replied 
Elsie,  laughing  happily. 

"I  think  him  such  a  sblendid  man  and  so  does 
eferybody.  There  is  only  one  thing  which  the  beeble 
think  a  bity.  It  is  that  he  has  no  religion.  The 


182  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

Sheykh  Bakir  he  calls  him  just  a  Turk,  no  better. 
They  say  he  calls  the  missionaries  silly  fools,  and 
lufs  the  Muslims  better  than  the  Christians.  Ber- 
habs  you  speak  to  him  and  make  him  change." 

"People  tell  stories  sometimes !"  answered  Elsie 
sharply;  and  Jemileh  knew  that  she  had  said 
enough. 


XXI 

THE  Sheykh  Bakir  took  leave  directly  after  din- 
ner: Miss  Sophy  then  retired  to  her  own  room. 
The  Khawajah  Jack  was  sleepy,  and  soon  went  to 
bed.  Elsie  and  the  Khawajah  Fenn  were  left  alone 
together,  sitting  in  easy-chairs  upon  the  terrace 
underneath  the  pines.  Jemileh,  tortured  by  anxiety, 
stole  near  to  listen  on  the  other  side  of  the  low 
wall.  Her  brother  Faris,  Umm  Rashid  and  the 
housemaid,  to  whom  she  had  made  known  her  plan,  all 
of  them  treading  upon  tiptoe,  followed  her,  drawn 
by  the  same  fear  of  losing  Elsie.  Jemileh  was  em- 
barrassed by  their  presence,  dreading  lest  their 
whispered  questions  should  be  overheard.  "What 
are  they  saying  now?"  they  asked  continually. 

Elsie  was  seeking  information  about  Muslim 
shrines  and  Mr.  Fenn  was  giving  learned  answer. 

"Is  that  what  they  call  lover's  talk?"  asked  Umm 
Rashid  with  scorn  and  pity. 

Jemileh  also  felt  contempt  for  them.  Here  were 
a  man  and  a  woman,  deep  in  love,  alone  together  in 
the  darkness,  almost  touching  one  another,  yet  they 
could  talk  of  Saracenic  architecture.  Were  they 
soulless?  The  gloom  was  spangled  with  the  dance 
of  fireflies.  A  warm  breeze  made  a  sighing  in  the 
branches  overhead. 

183 


184  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

At  length,  after  a  pause,  Miss  Wilding  spoke  in 
a  new  tone.  Jemileh  whispered  "Hush!"  to  her 
adherents. 

"You've  never  told  me  what  you  think  of  mission- 
aries. You  know  I'm  one,  though  I  fear  I  have 
not  shown  it  much  these  last  few  days.  Tell  me,  will 
you?  We  have  never  talked  upon  that  subject." 

Jemileh  told  the  others  what  was  said.  They 
hardly  dared  to  breathe  in  the  long  pause  which  fol- 
lowed, before  the  small  khawajah  said — 

"I  have  avoided  speaking  of  it  because  I  was 
afraid  you'd  think  me  half  a  heathen.  But  since 
you've  asked  me  outright  I  must  now  confess  that 
I  am  not  in  love  with  missionaries,  and  think  myself 
they  do  more  harm  than  good  out  here." 

Jemileh  and  her  shadows  hugged  themselves.  The 
small  khawajah  was  a  fool.  He  could  not  lie. 

"Then  you're  not — what  was  it  that  you  said? — 
'in  love' — with  me?"  said  Elsie  coyly;  and  Jemileh 
shuddered,  for  she  thought,  what  man  could  fail  to 
take  a  hint  as  plain  as  arms  held  out  to  him  ? 

"You're  not  a  missionary,"  said  the  small  khawa- 
jah, laughing.  "You  think  you  are,  but  you  are  not. 
I  know  the  breed." 

"Better  and  better !"  was  Jemileh's  verdict.  Noth- 
ing so  annoyed  her  mistress  as  to  be  accused  of  self- 
deception. 

"Praise  be  to  Allah!"  whispered  Umm  Rashid. 

"Well,  let  us  have  it.    Why  do  you  object  to  mis- 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  185 

sionaries?  Will  you  condescend  to  tell  me?  Or  is 
it  all  too  high  for  my  intelligence?" 

"Don't  talk  like  that!  That's  rubbish!"  cried 
the  small  khawajah.  "I  know  nothing  about  mission- 
ary work  in  other  countries,  but  here  I  can't  approve 
of  it.  It's  such  a  sordid  business — forgive  my  say- 
ing this,  but  you  know  you  asked  me  for  my  real 
opinion — it's  so  hopelessly  mixed  up  with  trade  and 
politics.  The  Muslims  are  the  finest  people  in  this 
country 

"They're  not!"  gasped  Elsie  in  a  voice  of  pious 
horror,  which  Jemileh  echoed  as  she  passed  the 
tidings  on.  The  listeners  were  amazed — amazed  and 
scandalized — at  the  unholy  shrewdness  of  the  small 
khawajah's  judgment.  "Curse  his  religion!"  was 
the  sigh  of  Paris,  who  was  superstitious. 

"They  are,  if  you  will  deign  to  judge  them  by 
the  common  standard,  and  not  by  the  standard  of 
what  we  call  'modern  progress,'  which  has  elements 
of  pure  rascality,  and  in  any  case  is  something  quite 
apart  from  all  religion.  The  missionaries  do  very 
little  for  them — they  can't,  I  admit  that — and  de- 
vote their  chief  attention  to  the  native  Christians. 
They — or  I  should  say,  the  worst  of  them — are  easy 
to  convert  if  you  hold  out  a  means  of  livelihood. 
Think  of  the  Muslim — the  man  whom  the  mission- 
aries came  here  in  the  first  place  to  convert.  How 
does  it  impress  him — this  spectacle  of  Christian  sects 
attacking  one  another?" 

"But  we  do  work  among  the  Muslims,  so  your 


186  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

argument  falls  through.  Our  medical  missions  and 
our  schools  make  no  distinction." 

"I  don't  object  to  medical  missions  or  scholastic 
missions  as  such.  But  I  think  that  they'd  do  better 
work,  on  much  more  Christian  lines,  if  they  gave  up 
the  converting  business  altogether.  The  most  that 
they  can  hope  to  do  is  to  confuse  the  minds  of  some 
poor  creatures  who  do  not  know  the  teaching  of  their 
own  religion.  I  would  teach  a  man  his  own  religion 
at  its  best  before  attempting  to  convert  him  to  my 
own." 

"It  is  a  case  of  saving  souls  from  Hell.  It's  not 
a  prize-fight,"  remarked  Elsie  dryly. 

Jemileh  could  not  make  out  what  she  meant  by 
that. 

Her  words  too  seemed  to  vex  the  small  khawajah, 
for  he  repeated :  "A  prize-fight !  A  prize-fight !  Well, 
perhaps  it  is,  as  things  go  on  at  present  something 
like  it.  Quite  as  amusing  and  a  deal  more  dangerous  ! 
.  .  .  All  I  really  meant  to  say  was,  that  to  wrap  up 
spiritual  benefits  in  material  benefits,  like  a  pill  in 
jam,  seems  to  me  wrong." 

"But  the  spiritual  benefit  is  so  important  that  it 
must  be  given  somehow,  like  the  pill  you  mention," 
put  in  Elsie  deftly. 

"That  may  be,  but  the  benefit  is  not  self-evident. 
Before  the  missionaries  of  all  Christian  sects  and 
nations  flocked  to  this  unlucky  country,  the  native 
Christians  were  in  general  contented.  If  most  of 
them  were  poor,  so  were  most  of  the  Mahometans. 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  187 

The  burden  of  oppression  was  on  both  alike.  There 
was  then  a  chance  that  the  two  religions — you  may 
call  them  races — would  advance  together  to  a  higher 
stage  of  civilization.  Now  the  Christians  are  made 
discontented  and  seditious,  petted  by  the  foreign  mis- 
sionaries, who  pour  contempt  on  all  the  customs  of 
the  country  and  teach  their  converts  the  innate 
inferiority  of  the  Muslims,  basing  their  arguments  on 
such  unChristian  things  as  iron-clads  and  steam- 
engines  and  factories.  Indeed,  if  you  reduce  their 
argument  to  its  absurdity,  it  would  amount  to  this : 
that  our  English  Black  Country  is  intrinsically 
better,  being  Christian,  than  that  little  shrine  upon 
the  mountains  which  we  saw  to-day.  The  Christians 
nowadays  are  richer  than  the  Muslims,  whom  they 
hate  and,  where  they  can,  despise.  They  will  do 
everything  in  their  power  to  prevent  the  Muslims 
from  advancing  to  the  same  prosperity." 

"No  doubt  all  that  is  very  clever.  But  it  strikes 
me  as  intolerant  and  not  quite  true,"  said  Elsie 
tartly. 

"I  hope  it  isn't  really  that,"  murmured  the  small 
khawajah,  as  if  he  thought  it  possible  she  might  be 
right.  His  tone  came  as  a  revelation  to  the  secret 
listeners.  It  showed  that  he  was  taking  the  Sitt 
seriously,  regarding  her  as  quite  his  equal  in  intelli- 
gence. He  had  been  speaking  like  a  prophet  the 
whole  truth  unblushingly,  yet  the  lady's  stupid 
answer  struck  him  dumb. 


188  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

"The  blockhead!"  whispered  Uram  Rashid. 
"Praise  be  to  Allah!" 

"It's  what  I've  thought  out  for  myself.  I  may 
be  wrong.  I'm  open  to  conviction.  I  wish  you'd  tell 
me  what  you  think  yourself." 

"You'd  only  pick  my  words  to  pieces  and  make 
mock  of  them,"  Elsie  made  answer  fiercely  through 
clenched  teeth. 

"I  shouldn't,  as  you  know  quite  well !" 

"My  views  are  only  those  of  ordinary  Christian 
people.  I  don't  pretend  to  be  so  clever  as  to  start 
a  new  view  of  my  own.  I  didn't  know  you  were  like 
this.  I  never  dreamt  it."  Elsie  paused  a  minute, 
before  adding  in  a  careless  tone,  "If  you  ask  me 
what  I  really  think  ...  I  think  it  is  quite  time  I 
went  to  bed." 

The  eavesdroppers  filed  back  towards  the  house. 
Jemileh  went  up  into  Elsie's  room  and  lighted  both 
the  candles  on  the  dressing-table. 

"You're  fery  late,  Miss  Elsie,"  she  reproached 
her  mistress. 

Elsie  ignored  the  greeting,  seeming  much  excited. 

"I  tell  you  what,  Jemileh,"  she  exclaimed.  "I've 
been  too  idle  since  my  brother  came  here.  We  must 
get  back  to  work  in  earnest  when  he  goes.  I've  got 
a  plan.  Mr.  Salaman's  queer  scheme  first  put  it 
into  my  head.  We'll  go  over  to  Ai'neyn  occasionally 
and  hold  services.  Those  people  are  our  neighbours. 
They  are  still  in  darkness,  and  I,  who  have  been 
here  eight  months,  have  not  once  been  to  visit  them." 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  189 

Jemileh's  jaw  fell  and  her  knees  gave  way  beneath 
her. 

"I  wouldn't  do  that,  Miss  Elsie,  not  if  I  was  you. 
They're  Muslims,  fery  safage,  wicked  beeble." 

"I've  seen  them  when  I've  ridden  through  the 
place.  They  seem  quite  friendly.  At  all  events 
they're  going  to  hear  the  Gospel." 

Jemileh's  very  soul  was  stunned  by  this  announce- 
ment. Better  a  thousand  times  that  Elsie  should 
have  married  the  Khawajah  Fenn  and  left  Jemileh 
than  that  Elsie  and  Jemileh  both  should  perish  at 
the  hands  of  savage  infidels.  The  dark  girl  became 
now  as  anxious  to  promote  the  marriage  as  an  hour 
before  she  had  been  eager  to  prevent  it. 

Having  lain  awake  all  night  devising  means,  she 
rose  next  morning  with  a  plan  complete.  But  at 
breakfast  Mr.  Fenn  announced  his  purpose  to  de- 
part that  very  day,  persisting  in  his  resolution  in 
spite  of  the  rebukes  and  insults  which  Jack  poured 
on  him.  Both  he  and  Elsie  looked  unhappy.  They 
avoided  one  another  till  the  time  for  his  departure, 
when  they  said  Good-bye  with  no  more  warmth  than 
comes  of  chance  acquaintance.  Jemileh  longed  to 
push  their  heads  together.  She  felt  desperate. 

Following  the  small  khawajah  to  his  horse,  she 
said  in  Arabic — 

"Your  Honour  will  soon  come  again,  I  pray !" 

"How  can  I  come  again  after  my  friend  has  gone? 
There  will  be  only  women  in  the  house,"  he  answered 
coldly. 


190  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

"Come  with  your  tent  and  camp  above  the  village. 
My  lady  greatly  needs  a  friend  and  counsellor.  She 
is  so  brave,  so  reckless,  it  resembles  madness.  Woe 
upon  us!  I  fear  that  we  shall  come  to  great  dis- 
aster." 

"Perhaps  I  may  return  some  day,"  was  all  he 
said. 

Jemileh's  heart  sank  lower  as  he  rode  away  than 
it  had  done  when  she  discovered  the  escape  of  Percy. 

Her  brother's  sigh  of  "Praise  to  Allah !"  startled 
her,  sounding  the  gulf  between  last  night  and  now. 


XXII 

JEMILEH  told  her  trouble  to  the  Sheykh  Bakir, 
but  he  made  light  of  it,  declaring  that  the  people 
of  Aineyn  would  welcome  Elsie  if  she  spoke  politely. 
She  then  approached  the  good-natured  Khawajah 
Jack,  who  readily  agreed  to  warn  his  sister.  But 
Jemileh  soon  repented  of  her  choice  of  him,  for  his 
idea  of  tactful  intervention  was  to  scoff  at  missions, 
thus  inflaming  Elsie's  zeal. 

"We  will  begin  in  quite  a  small  way  at  Aineyn. 
If  that  succeeds  we  will  extend  the  work  to  other 
Muslim  villages,"  said  Elsie,  her  ideas  enlarging 
under  irritation.  Jemileh's  terror  grew.  She  cast 
about  for  some  strong  helper,  and  could  think  of 
no  one  but  the  British  Consul,  who  loved  the  ladies 
of  the  school,  Miss  Wilding's  aunts.  She  resolved 
to  have  recourse  to  Miss  Jane  Berenger.  Miss 
Sophy  was  too  weak,  and  would  go  straight  to  Elsie. 

Accordingly,  hearing  her  mistress  speak  of  riding 
to  the  city  with  her  brother  to  defer  the  parting, 
Jemileh  begged  for  leave  to  go  with  them  to  make 
some  purchases. 

The  cavalcade  set  out  at  sunrise  on  a  cloudless 
day.  Elsie  and  her  brother  rode  a  good  deal  ahead 
of  Miss  Sophy  Berenger  and  Jemileh,  who  were 

191 


192  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

both  on  donkeys,  Faris  some  twenty  paces  in  their 
rear.  They  were  traversing  A'ineyn,  in  shadow  from 
the  square  stone  houses,  when  Elsie  called  out: 
"Come  and  help  me!"  and  Jemileh  saw  her  mistress 
talking  to  an  aged  Muslim. 

"Tell  him  of  my  wish  to  come  and  speak  to  them." 

Jemileh,  thus  enjoined,  informed  the  man  that 
the  noble  English  lady,  being  delighted  with  the  sit- 
uation of  A'ineyn  and  with  the  manners  and  good 
looks  of  its  inhabitants,  proposed  one  day  to  pay  a 
visit  to  the  place  and  make  the  acquaintance  of  a 
people  so  polite  and  amiable. 

"Let  her  come  and  welcome!"  was  the  smiling 
answer.  "Our  Lord  reward  her  condescension!  I 
will  tell  our  sheykh." 

Jemileh  then  translated:  "He  says  they  will  be 
bleased  to  see  you  any  time,  but  you'd  best  not 
talk  too  much  about  religion,  'cause  they're  so 
fanatical." 

"He  said  nothing  of  the  kind,"  said  Elsie  sharply. 
"You  forget  that  I  can  understand.  I  wish  that 
you  would  limit  your  translations  to  what  people 
say,  and  not  put  in  your  private  views  and  com- 
ments." 

"I  tell  the  truth,  miss.     It  is  as  I  say." 

"Jemileh  is  quite  right,"  cried  Khawajah  Jack. 
"You'd  better  not  say  anything  about  religion.  It's 
just  what  I've  been  trying  to  din  into  you." 

Jemileh  dropped  behind  to  ride  with  Faris.  She 
realized  how  foolish  she  had  been  to  add  her  own 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  193 

remark  to  what  the  man  had  said.  If  Elsie  was 
by  nature  unsuspecting,  when  her  vigilance  was  once 
aroused  it  was  implacable.  Henceforth  she  would 
mistrust  Jemileh  as  interpreter,  and  insist  on  speak- 
ing for  herself,  however  lamely. 

By  noon  Jemileh  was  conferring  with  the  Sitt 
Afifeh  in  the  latter's  bedroom,  confiding  all  her 
fears  and  troubles  to  her  former  tyrant.  Esteeming 
it  a  matter  of  the  first  importance  that  her  name 
should  not  be  mentioned  as  informer,  she  would  not 
go  direct  to  Miss  Jane  Berenger. 

"Ma  sh' Allah!  So  your  lot  in  life  is  not  all 
sugar,"  said  the  mustachioed  middle-aged  woman 
when  the  tale  was  ended.  "All  Frankish  women  are 
possessed  with  devils.  The  old  are  bad  enough  to 
manage.  But  the  young — Just  Allah! — they  are 
worse  a  hundred  times.  Well,  I  will  speak  a  word 
for  thee  in  old  Jane's  ear." 

At  ten  o'clock  next  morning,  when  Elsie  was  out 
riding,  Jemileh  got  her  summons  to  the  presence  of 
Miss  Jane.  Miss  Sophy,  looking  very  sad,  was 
with  her  sister.  The  girl  repeated  all  that  she  had 
told  Afifeh. 

"I  wish  that  she  would  marry  Mr.  Fenn,"  she  mur- 
mured in  conclusion.  "He  lufs  her  fery  much,  and 
she  lufs  him.  Only  he  made  her  cross  by  saying  that 
he  disabbroves  of  missionaries.  I  wish  he  would  re- 
turn and  safe  her  from  herself.  When  boor  Jemileh 
tries  to  stob  her  doing  something  dangerous,  she  is 


194  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

so  cross!  Blease  do  not  tell  her  that  I  sboke  with 
you,  dear  ladies!" 

With  this  petition  she  withdrew.  It  was  not  till 
two  hours  later  that  she  learnt  the  sequel  from 
Afifeh.  The  ladies  had  gone  straightway  to  the 
British  Consul,  who,  hearing  their  report,  had  taken 
them  to  call  upon  the  Turkish  governor.  The  Wali 
had  been  very  kind,  they  said.  He  had  promised  to 
send  his  carriage  that  same  afternoon  to  fetch  Miss 
Wilding  and  her  brother  to  his  house. 

The  carriage  came,  to  Elsie's  great  annoyance. 
The  visit  was  a  nuisance,  she  declared,  on  Jack's  last 
day.  But  Jack,  who  had  received  a  hint,  insisted  on 
her  going.  Jemileh  spent  the  hours  till  their  return 
in  prayer  in  Elsie's  room. 

Elsie  at  length  burst  in  upon  her,  flushed  and 
irritated. 

"A  hateful  afternoon!"  she  cried  in  accents  of 
disgust.  "I  sat  out  in  the  garden  with  Emineh 
Khanum.  She  is  going  to  be  married  in  a  month — 
what  they  call  marriage !  I  tried  to  make  her  see 
how  horrible  it  is.  She  only  laughed.  She  wants 
me  to  be  present  at  the  wedding,  but  I  shan't.  When 
I  got  up  to  go  to  Jack  in  the  selamlik,  what  do  you 
think  she  said?  That  if  I  wished  to  convert  Muslims 
I  should  come  to  her,  who  would  be  always  glad  to 
see  me  instead  of  worrying  poor  fellahin.  So  some 
one  has  been  talking  of  our  plan.  Who  can  it  be?" 

"I  can't  think!"  gasped  Jemileh  with  round  eyes 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  195 

of  horror,  "unless  it  might  be  Mr.  Jack,  berhabs. 
He  sbeak  so  free." 

"Well,  I'm  pretty  sure  the  visit  was  a  kind  of  trap 
to  stop  us  going  to  A'ineyn,  for  when  I  got  to  the 
selamlik  my  brother  began  begging  me  to  give  up 
the  idea — because  the  Pasha  wished  it.  And  the 
Pasha  made  me  a  long  speech  in  French — just  the 
kind  of  thing  one  might  expect  he  would  say,  leaving 
out  religion  altogether.  I  was  to  remember  that  as 
a  British  subject  I  had  privileges  and  could  not  be 
punished  if  I  caused  disorders;  the  punishment 
would  fall  upon  the  Muslims;  was  that  fair?  And 
so  on,  just  as  if  I  were  an  agitator!  I  was  too  much 
surprised  to  answer.  But  I  am  more  than  ever 
determined  to  begin  that  mission,  and  at  once !" 

Jemileh  could  have  shrieked  aloud.  The  terror 
had  returned.  It  would  not  leave  her. 

Elsie  was  still  talking  of  the  visit  when  her 
brother  came  and,  heedless  of  Jemileh's  presence, 
exclaimed — 

"Really,  Elsie,  you  must  give  up  all  that  non- 
sense of  converting  Muslims.  It's  downright  mean, 
as  the  old  Pasha  told  you.  How  would  you  like  it 
if  a  Muslim  came  and  preached  upon  your  doorstep 
once  a  week  because  he  knew  you  didn't  like  his 
views?" 

"Don't  talk  such  rubbish !  That  is  not  the  case !" 
cried  Elsie  in  a  perfect  rage.  "I  don't  care  what 
that  wicked  old  man  said.  He  talked  as  if  I  were 


196  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

an  idiot,  as  if  I  had  no  tact,  no  knowledge  of  the 
world.  I  shall  do  what  I  think  right." 

Jemileh  thought  it  seemly  to  retire.  She  closed 
the  door,  but  lingered  close  outside  it.  Jack  argued 
forcibly  and  she  had  hopes  that  he  would  win.  But 
presently  the  poor  demented  girl  began  to  cry,  and 
his  tone  weakened.  When  Elsie  sobbed:  "It  is 
unkind  of  you  on  our  last  day,"  Jemileh  heard  him 
flop  down  on  his  knees,  defeated.  Her  last  hope  of 
escaping  martyrdom  by  outside  means  was  dead. 
Now  either  she  must  save  herself  or  perish  miser- 
ably; and  she  felt  exhausted. 

The  Sitt  Afifeh  tried  to  calm  her,  saying — 

"There  is  naught  to  fear.  The  Franks  to-day 
have  all  the  power.  They  do  their  will.  No  Muslim 
dare  oppose  it,  much  less  harm  them — Well,  since 
thou  art  so  much  afraid,  feign  sickness !" 

But  Jemileh  could  not  contemplate  that  course, 
though  she  was  really  ill.  The  need  to  watch  and 
worry  was  too  great.  As  she  rode  up  to  Deyr 
Amun  with  Elsie,  who  spoke  little  in  her  grief  at 
parting  from  her  brother,  her  horror  of  the  danger 
raised  a  shouting  in  her  brain.  At  passing  through 
Ai'neyn  she  shuddeed  violently;  and  when  at  tea  on 
their  arrival,  Elsie  said:  "On  Friday  we  will  hold 
our  meeting  at  Ai'neyn,"  she  could  endure  no  longer. 

"You  shall  not  go  to  Ai'neyn,  I  tell  you!  I  for- 
bid it!  You  are  a  fery  foolish,  fery  wicked  girl! 
Eferybody  tell  you,  but  you  will  not  heed  them.  You 
wish  to  die,  berhabs.  But  I  will  stob  it." 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  197 

Having  hurled  those  words  out  in  a  fury,  Jemileh 
fled  to  her  own  bedroom,  where  repentance  over- 
came her.  She  thought  that  Elsie  would  now  hate 
her,  and  that  seemed  worse  than  the  most  cruel 
death.  Elsie  would  go  without  her  to  Aineyn.  She 
would  be  killed  alone,  without  Jemileh,  hating  her. 
She  would  think  Jemileh  was  a  coward,  had  be- 
trayed her;  whereas  God  knew  the  truth  was  .  .  . 
Here  her  thoughts  were  merged  in  one  great  flood 
of  grief  which  found  vent  in  a  howl  as  of  a  dog  in 
pain. 

Her  mistress  came  and  strove  to  pacify  her,  whis- 
pering— 

"Don't  come  if  you're  afraid.  But  there's  no 
danger  really.  Mr.  Jones  and  all  the  other  mission- 
aries preach  in  Muslim  villages.  I  shall  speak  very 
simply — nothing  that  could  anger  them.  But  don't 
you  come  with  me  if  you  have  any  fear." 

"Oh,  don't  talk  so,  Miss  Elsie,  for  you  know  I 
luf  you!  I'd  neffer  let  you  go  alone  among  those 
beeble.  I'd  stob  you  going  if  I  could,  because  I  luf 
you ;  but  if  you  go  I  follow  just  the  same.  Forgif 
me  what  I  said.  I  was  so  troubled.  I  do  so  fear 
to  see  you  run  in  any  danger." 

"There  is  no  danger,  I  feel  sure.  You're  over- 
tired. Go  to  bed  now.  I'll  bring  you  up  some 
supper  later  on." 

"Oh,  dear  Miss  Elsie,  how  I  luf  you!  You  are 
so  kind,  so  sweet  to  boor  Jemileh!" 

At  that  moment  of  supreme  devotion  to  her  mis- 


198  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

tress,  the  dark  girl  felt  a  positive  desire  to  share 
her  martyrdom.  She  prayed  for  strength  through 
half  the  night,  and  in  the  morning  went  out  to  seek 
it  from  the  ministrations  of  the  village  priest. 


XXIII 

THE  priest's  wife  had  gone  down  to  do  some  wash- 
ing at  the  spring,  and  the  children  had  gone  with 
her  for  the  joy  of  splashing.  Antun  sat  smoking 
a  nargileh  in  his  doorway  when  Jemileh  reached  it. 
He  bade  her  welcome,  carrying  his  pipe  indoors.  She 
sat  down  in  a  corner  to  escape  the  glance  of  any 
passer  by  the  open  door;  for  there  were  people  in 
the  village  who  would  be  delighted  to  inform  Miss 
Wilding  that  she  visited  the  priest  in  secret. 

Antun  listened  to  her  story  without  interrupting. 
The  peaceful  bubbling  of  the  water  in  the  bowl  of 
his  nargileh,  as  he  sucked  the  mouthpiece,  together 
with  the  cooing  of  some  doves  out  in  the  sunlight, 
made  her  fate  appear  more  horrible.  Before  the  end 
of  the  confession  she  was  weeping.  The  priest  con- 
sidered for  a  while.  At  last  he  took  the  amber 
mouthpiece  from  his  lips,  observing — 

"Healthy  young  women  have  their  natural  func- 
tions, apart  from  which  they  become  dangerous 
through  too  much  energy,  like  horses  full  of  corn 
yet  idle.  They  kick  and  plunge  and  terrify  the 
world.  A  man  would  calm  her." 

"True,  O  our  father ;  but  inform  me,  for  the  love  of 
Allah,  where  in  our  country  is  the  man  to  suit  her? 
She  would  not  take  a  passer-by  upon  the  road." 

199 


200  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

"Why  did  the  small  khawajah  go  away?  He  was 
a  man  of  enterprise  and  common  sense;  and  he 
desired  her." 

"O  my  despair !  Have  I  not  told  thee  ?  His  going 
was  in  part  my  fault.  I  wished  to  keep  my  lady  to 
myself;  I  feared  that  if  she  married  him  she  would 
forsake  me.  I  abhorred  the  prospect  of  her  mar- 
riage till  this  terror  came  upon  us,  making  me  desire 
it  more  than  wealth.  Alas !  my  blindness  !  The  Lord 
have  mercy  on  us!  We  shall  both  be  slaughtered 
miserably.  We  shall  die  the  death  of  martyrs.  O 
despair !" 

"Shame  on  thee,  O  my  daughter!"  said  the  priest 
benignantly.  "Is  that  the  way  to  speak  of  blessed 
martyrdom,  which  gives  the  crown  of  everlasting 
life?  Saw  I  the  slightest  hope  of  such  preferment 
for  thee,  God  is  my  witness,  I  should  not  deter  thee, 
rather  urge  thee  on.  But  the  faith  thy  lady  preaches 
is  a  filthy  heresy,  so  there  can  be  no  martyrdom  for 
her  or  thee." 

"With  thy  permission,  O  our  father,  there  thou 
errest,"  argued  Jemileh  vehemently  through  her 
tears.  "It  is  not  necessary  that  a  person  should 
be  fighting  for  the  truth  to  gain  the  martyr's  crown. 
All  that  is  necessary  is  that  he  or  she  should  be 
baptized,  a  holder  of  the  truth  and  perish  at  the 
hands  of  infidels." 

"And  if  it  be  so,  how  does  that  concern  thee  ?  Art 
thou  a  holder  of  the  truth  perchance — thou  who 
blasphemest  with  the  Brutestants,  who  partakest 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  201 

of  the  bread  and  wine  which  the  mock-priest  from 
the  city  administers  upon  a  table  in  thy  lady's 
chamber,  with  jests  and  laughter  like  a  common 
meal?" 

"No,  by  the  Gospel,  O  our  father!  It  is  not  like 
that.  All  is  solemn  and  most  reverent.  Come  once 
and  see!  I  seek  refuge  in  Allah  from  sacrilege  and 
blasphemy." 

"Be  that  as  it  may,  the  feast  is  none  the  less 
a  mockery.  How  canst  thou  hold  the  truth,  when 
thou  defendest  it?  Thou  hast  not  come  up  once 
to  worship  in  the  church  in  all  these  months  that 
thou  art  living  with  the  Englishwoman." 

"Have  pity,  O  our  father!"  sobbed  Jemileh. 
"Allah  knows  that  I  have  wished  to  do  so,  but  I 
dared  not.  My  lady  thinks  our  way  of  worship  evil. 
If  she  knew  that  I  had  taken  part  in  it  she  would 
discard  me;  she  would  leave  the  place.  The  school 
and  the  dispensary  would  both  be  closed.  Are  those 
benefits  worth  nothing  in  thy  sight?  .  .  .  Oh,  Al- 
lah knows,  with  what  true  faith  I  came  to  thee, 
seeking  strength  from  Heaven  wherewith  to  face  this 
grievous  ordeal!  How  canst  thou  repel  me?  If  I 
miss  the  martyr's  glory,  it  is  through  thy  fault;  the 
Mother  of  God  and  all  the  saints  shall  hear  of 
it.  .  .  ." 

"Well,  art  thou  willing  to  make  full  submission 
and  to  return  to  the  true  fold,  performing  all  thy 
duties — nay,  I  say  not  openly,  but  secretly  and  as 
occasion  offers?" 


202  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

"I  am,  by  the  life  of  the  Saviour !" 

"Then  come  into  the  church  with  me.  Thou  shalt 
have  comfort;  though  Allah  knows  perhaps  I  err 
in  giving  it.  But  our  Lord  is  merciful,  and  since, 
as  thou  declarest,  there  is  danger  for  thee,  it  is  pos- 
sible for  me  to  regard  thee  as  a  sinner  at  the  point 
of  death.  I  do  not  altogether  blame  thy  lady.  It  is 
better  for  her  to  attack  the  heathen  than  the  Church 
of  Christ.  But  when  one  thinks  of  benefits,  it  is 
another  story.  I  fear  me  she  will  squander  on  the 
infidels  those  riches  which  belong  of  right  to  Deyr 
Amun.  Instead  of  stoning  they  may  flatter  her, 
since  she  is  rich.  And  I  remember  how  thou  didst 
assure  us  at  her  coming  that  she  would  spend  her 
money  in  this  village,  nowhere  else." 

"How  could  I  foresee?"  Jemileh  wrung  her 
hands  and  sobbed  despairingly.  "Am  I  to  blame? 
Thou  seest  my  distress!" 

"I  said  not  that  I  blamed  thee.  Come  into  the 
church." 

After  half-an-hour  spent  in  the  incense-laden 
gloom,  hearing  the  mystic,  chanted  words  of  one  who 
from  a  shrewd,  facetious  man  had  changed  into  a 
radiant  being,  clear  of  earth,  Jemileh  came  forth 
with  hands  folded  on  her  bosom,  and  hastened  home- 
ward by  secluded  paths.  She  wept  a  little  for  the 
pity  of  her  virgin  fate,  but  with  submission,  praying 
ever  that  sinful  fear  might  not  return  to  spoil  her 
end. 


XXIV 

Miss  WILDING  wished  old  Abu  Faris  and  his  wife, 
with  all  the  little  Sunday  congregation,  to  go  with 
her  to  Ai'neyn;  but  one  and  all  they  begged  to  be 
excused.  The  father  of  Jemileh  had  a  dreadful 
stomach-ache.  His  wife  must  stay  to  nurse  him. 
Another  of  the  faithful  had  gone  lame,  and  yet 
another  was  afflicted  with  acute  ophthalmia.  Jemi- 
leh would  have  given  all  that  she  possessed  to  be 
disabled  by  some  momentary  illness,  but  she  dared 
not  feign  one.  She  sought  out  Faris  in  the  hope  of 
sympathy ;  but  her  brother,  worshipping  the  ground 
that  Elsie  trod  on,  was  quite  reckless.  It  seemed  he 
wished  to  die  defending  her. 

"They  may  do  their  worst  to  me;  I  care  not!" 
he  informed  his  sister,  "but  whoso  lifts  a  hand 
against  my  lady,  dies  that  minute." 

"For  the  love  of  Allah,  be  not  bold,  be  humble 
in  their  sight !  Show  not  a  weapon,  I  implore  thee !" 
moaned  Jemileh. 

They  started  at  the  third  hour  after  noon,  carry- 
ing Arabic  hymn-books  in  their  saddle-bags.  Elsie 
regretted  that  they  could  not  take  with  them  the 
wheezy  old  piano  to  accompany  the  hymns ;  but  the 
risk  of  damage  to  the  instrument  by  transport  to 

203 


204  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

A'ineyn  and  back  upon  a  camel  appeared  too  great. 
Her  talk  seemed  folly  to  Jemileh,  who  was  wrapped 
in  prayer. 

But  Elsie's  careless  manner  masked  uneasiness,  as1 
became  evident  when  Jemileh,  nerved  by  the  approach 
of  danger,  said  as  they  reached  the  bottom  of  the 
wady — 

"Go  back,  Miss  Elsie,  while  there  is  still  time! 
You  do  not  know  what  you  are  doing.  Think  what 
these  beeble  did  to  Mr.  Bercy.  They  do  worse  to 
us!" 

Elsie's  voice  shook  as  she  made  answer — 

"I  have  said  already  that  your  fears  are  non- 
sense. They  would  never  venture  to  attack  a  Brit- 
ish subject.  Jemileh,  don't  be  foolish;  you  will 
make  me  nervous.  It  is  not  an  easy  thing  that  I 
am  going  to  do." 

Jemileh  threw  herself  on  Allah's  mercy. 

They  reached  Aineyn.  Miss  Wilding,  after  riding 
through  the  village,  selected  a  clear  space  among  the 
houses.  It  was  a  slope  of  thistles  and  rank  grass 
and  boulders,  where  long-haired  goats  were  brows- 
ing. Above  it  was  a  ruined  tomb  with  gaping  dome, 
the  crescent  on  its  summit  all  awry.  On  one  side 
the  blind  wall  of  a  two-storeyed  house  threw  shade 
upon  a  level  space  of  rock.  Here  they  dismounted. 
Faris  tied  up  the  horses  by  their  headropes,  Jemi- 
leh's  donkey  was  allowed  to  roam. 

"How  shall  we  call  the  people?"  Elsie  asked,  as 
she  laid  out  the  hymn-books. 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  205 

"There  is  no  need,  miss,"  said  Jemileh  grimly. 
"They  are  cominV 

In  fact,  a  number  of  the  villagers — men,  women 
and  children — had  gathered  on  the  edges  of  the 
open  space  to  stare  at  the  intruders.  Most  of  the 
men  wore  large  old-fashioned  turbans  and  loose 
robes  so  old  that  they  had  lost  all  colour.  The 
women  wore  straight  gowns  of  faded  indigo  and 
clean  white  headveils  reaching  to  the  waist. 

"Tell  them  to  come  nearer  and  sit  down,"  said 
Elsie. 

Jemileh  was  preparing  to  obey  when  an  old  man 
and  two  youths  came  running  towards  them  with 
low  salutations.  Faris  stood  near  at  guard,  with 
hand  upon  the  pistol  at  his  belt. 

"It  is  the  headman  of  the  fillage  and  his  sons," 
Jemileh  told  her  mistress.  "What  he  says  is,  won't 
you  come  inside  his  house  and  take  refreshment? 
The  Sheykh  Bakir  has  told  him  you  were  coming,  and 
he's  bleased  to  see  you.  I  think  we'd  best  do  what 
he  says.  These  safage  beeble  are  so  fery  hosbitable, 
they  wouldn't  hurt  us  if  we  'f  had  their  food." 

"We'll  hold  our  service  first.  Explain  to  him," 
said  Elsie,  who  was  strung  up  to  one  purpose. 

"The  English  lady  wishes  to  address  the  people. 
She  comes  to  speak  to  them  of  holy  things.  It  is 
her  business,"  said  Jemileh.  "After  that  she  will 
accept  your  Honour's  kindness  with  pleasure  and 
much  gratitude." 

The  Sheykh  and  his  two  sons  protested  warmly. 


206  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

The  lady,  who  was  dear  to  them  as  their  own  eyes, 
ought  really  to  repose  a  little  after  her  long  ride. 
But,  finding  her  resolved,  they  shrugged  their  shoul- 
ders and  resigned  themselves. 

"We  had  better  begin  with  a  hymn,  I  suppose," 
said  Elsie,  hoarse  with  trepidation.  "Give  the 
sheykh  and  his  sons  hymn-books." 

"I'm  afraid  we  shan't  make  foice  enough,"  fal- 
tered Jemileh. 

"We  must  do  something  for  a  start,"  said  Elsie 
wildly. 

Accordingly  Jemileh  handed  round  the  hymn-books 
to  those  who  said  that  they  could  read — a  very  few 
— explaining  as  she  did  so  that  the  lady  wished 
them  to  join  with  her  in  singing  praises  to  Almighty 
God.  They  murmured  acquiescence  and  approval. 
Then  Elsie  started  singing  suddenly.  The  tune  was 
the  Old  Hundredth.  Jemileh  followed  in  a  different 
key.  Faris,  standing  defiant  with  his  left  hand  on 
his  hip,  shouted  such  of  the  words  as  he  could  hear 
as  if  he  hoped  they  would  destroy  the  Muslims ;  giv- 
ing particular  emphasis  to  the  last  verse,  which  he 
knew  by  heart,  ascribing  glory  to  the  Father,  Son 
and  Holy  Ghost.  Jemileh  trembled  at  his  rashness, 
feeling  sick  with  fear. 

Then  Elsie  read  some  prayers.  She  had  a  shock- 
ing accent,  and  made  no  distinction  in  pronunciation 
between  certain  consonants,  which  made  her  reading 
largely  unintelligible  for  people  who  had  never  heard 
her  speak  before.  But  the  name  of  Allah,  con- 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  207 

stantly  recurring,  carried  all  before  it,  and  several 
of  the  Muslims  said  "Amin"  with  Faris  and  Jemileh 
at  the  end  of  every  prayer. 

When  she  had  finished  reading,  Miss  Wilding 
asked  Jemileh  to  explain  the  reason  of  her  coming. 

Jemileh  then  informed  the  people  that  the  gracious 
lady  had  come  all  the  way  from  England,  a  land  of 
which  all  the  inhabitants  were  rich  and  sinless,  to 
teach  the  sons  of  the  Arabs  the  great  truths  which 
made  them  so,  by  Allah's  mercy. 

Those  nearest  murmured  approval.  One  old  man 
exclaimed:  "The  English  are  good  people,  friends 
to  El  Islam !" 

"Let  her  speak,  in  Allah's  name!"  called  out  the 
sheykh  with  smiles.  "God's  mercy  is  the  hope  of  all 
those  present." 

Faris  was  standing  with  his  back  against  the 
wall,  staring  defiance  at  the  Muslims,  one  hand  upon 
the  pistol  in  his  belt,  the  other  stroking  his  mous- 
tache superbly.  His  posture  was  a  studied  insult. 
Jemileh  begged  him  in  an  undertone  to  change  it 
instantly. 

"Let  me  translate  for  you,  I  beg,  I  bray!"  she 
cried  aloud,  beholding  Elsie  on  her  feet  and  gasping. 

"No,"  came  the  faint  reply.  "Don't  make  me 
nervous !" 

Jemileh  felt  that  her  last  hour  had  come.  In  other 
circumstances  dignified  and  graceful,  Elsie,  when 
preaching  in  the  power  of  her  strange  mania,  always 
resembled  a  great  awkward  child.  She  had  no  tact, 


208  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

no  presence.  On  this  occasion,  to  Jemileh's  horror, 
she  must  needs  embark  upon  the  story  of  the  world's 
redemption.  Over  and  over  again  she  said  "dog" 
when  she  meant  "heart" — "His  dog  loves  you"- 
"My  dog  informs  me" — till  Jemileh  bit  her  lip  in 
agonies  of  pure  vexation. 

But  worse  was  yet  to  come.  Having  told  the 
story  of  Christ's  sacrifice  in  that  queer  way,  Elsie 
must  needs  adjure  those  Muslims  to  leave  all  and 
follow  Him. 

"Mahomet  is  not  good.  Mahomet  cannot  save 
you.  Mahomet  is  a  liar ;  he  will  do  you  harm.  Ma- 
homet is  very  bad.  Isa  is  good;  Isa  loves  you;  Isa 
died  for  you.  Come  to  Isa.  Leave  Mahomet,"  and 
so  on  interminably. 

Jemileh  felt  as  if  she  were  already  dead,  and 
looking  on  from  a  great  distance  at  the  scene  whose 
every  feature  underwent  dilation  and  contraction  in 
accordance  with  the  beating  of  her  heart,  which 
seemed  about  to  burst.  She  was  sitting  very  still, 
afraid  to  move  an  eyelid,  yet  her  body  seemed  to  be 
in  constant  motion,  swaying  to  and  fro  or  swinging 
round.  When  at  last  she  risked  a  glance  in  the 
direction  of  her  mistress,  the  foremost  Muslims  had 
drawn  near  to  Elsie,  who  was  still  declaiming  quite 
unconscious  of  their  angry  faces.  Gazing  up  at  the 
sky  with  clasped  hands,  the  fool  continued  to  pour 
out  her  childish  pleadings. 

The  sight  of  Paris  springing  to  defend  his  mis- 
tress— a  yet  greater  danger — gave  Jemileh  strength 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  209 

to  move.  She  staggered  to  her  brother's  side  and 
clutched  his  arm,  beseeching:  "Wait — one  minute, 
wait!"  She  stood  before  him,  facing  the  excited 
crowd. 

"What  words  are  these  the  lady  utters?     Speak, 

0  Nazarene  girl !    She  is  cursing  the  religion  of  Ma- 
homet, here,  in  our  village,  in  a  Muslim  country.    We 
welcomed  her,  we  offered  her  rest  and  refreshment; 
and  she  gives  us  this.     She  shall  surely  die,  and  thou 
with  her,  O  daughter  of  a  dog." 

Jemileh  gazed  upon  the  ground,  tears  pouring 
down  her  cheeks.  Her  bosom  rose  and  fell  convul- 
sively. She  panted:  "For  the  love  of  Allah,  harm 
not,  O  sheykh !  It  were  a  shame  on  thee  and  all  thy 
people  to  the  end  of  time.  I  swear  to  thee  by  Allah, 
there  is  not  a  kinder  or  more  courteous  lady  under 
Heaven  than  she  is  when  her  mind  is  in  its  proper 
state.  But  when  the  fit  is  on  her,  she  becomes,  as 
you  have  seen  her,  rude  and  shameless.  She  must  go 
forth  and  insult  the  faith  of  others.  It  is  not  only 
here.  It  is  the  same  at  Deyr  Amun.  Ask  the  priest 
Antun  if  thou  doubtest  my  veracity !  She  insults  the 
Christians  also  in  her  madness.  What  can  we  do? 

1  and  my  brother  are  her  servants  and  we  love  her. 
We  accompany  her  to  protect  her  at  the  peril  of 
our  lives.     By  the  living  God  I  swear  to  thee  that 
she  is  not  responsible." 

Elsie  by  then  had  finished  her  address  amid  an 
angry  murmur.  Stones  were  lifted.  But  the  sheykh 
and  his  two  sons  ran  in  among  the  crowd,  cursing 


210  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

the  would-be  throwers,  crying  shame  on  them.  A 
frown  of  wonder  came  on  all  the  faces.  Then  fol- 
lowed smiles  of  understanding,  and  the  stones  were 
dropped. 

"How  often  does  the  madness  come  on  her?"  a 
woman  whispered. 

"Once  in  every  week,"  replied  Jemileh.  "But 
never  have  I  known  her  rage  so  dreadfully  as  she 
has  done  to-day." 

"Well,  Allah  knows  it  is  a  pity!  Such  a  fine 
young  woman!" 

"Are  the  fits  of  long  duration?"  asked  the  head- 
man. "My  neighbour's  son,  now  gone  to  Allah's 
mercy,  went  mad  for  weeks  together  every  year." 

"With  my  mistress  they  pass  quickly  as  a  rule. 
Even  now,  it  may  be,  she  is  well  again,  and  has  no 
recollection  of  the  words  she  uttered." 

"May  our  Lord  relieve  her!"  cried  the  villagers 
with  one  accord,  as  the  sheykh  of  the  village  led  off 
the  lady  to  his  house  to  take  refreshment.  Faris 
refused  to  follow,  being  angry. 

"Curse  thy  father!"  he  had  whispered  in  his  sis- 
ter's ear.  "Why  didst  thou  tell  them  she  was  mad? 
It  warmed  my  soul  to  hear  her  telling  the  plain  truth 
about  their  Prophet  and  their  sinful  faith,  and  now 
thou  hast  spoilt  all  by  saying  she  was  mad." 

Jemileh  shook  her  shoulders  in  contempt  of  him. 

The  sheykh  made  much  of  Elsie  through  com- 
passion, praising  her  for  having  learnt  so  many 
words  of  Arabic.  He  insisted  on  her  taking  food 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

and  drinking  coffee.  She  was  gracious  and  at  ease, 
a  different  person  from  the  stiff  ungainly  figure 
which  had  stood  and  preached  upon  the  rock. 

"The  fit  is  over,  praise  to  Allah!"  said  the  vil- 
lagers. When  she  went  out  to  her  horse,  the  people 
blessed  her.  The  sheykh  repeatedly  expressed  the 
hope  that  she  would  come  again. 

"I  think  our  meeting  was  a  great  success,"  she 
said  as  they  rode  back  towards  Deyr  Amun. 


XXV 

Miss  WILDING  was  exultant.  She  thought  out 
fresh  sermons  and  talked  already  of  extending  the 
good  work  to  other  villages.  Jemileh,  tortured  by 
anxiety,  grew  irritable  in  her  manner  towards  every 
one  except  her  mistress,  whom  she  encompassed  with 
attentions  more  than  ever,  thereby  hoping  to  regain 
control  of  her  proceedings.  She  did  succeed  in  lead- 
ing Elsie  to  perceive  that  her  first  sermon  to  the 
Muslims  had  been  injudicious,  and  persuading  her 
to  speak  at  first  of  subjects  on  which  Mahometans 
and  Christians  thought  alike.  Thus,  for  a  breath- 
ing-space, the  weekly  meeting  at  Aineyn  was  cleared 
of  danger,  becoming  a  mere  friendly  talk  concerning 
patriarchs  and  prophets,  which  disgusted  Faris, 
who  desired  strong  language  even  if  it  brought  him 
martyrdom  at  Elsie's  feet.  Compared  with  an  in- 
dulgence which  he  thought  derogatory,  it  seemed  of 
slight  importance  to  this  stalwart  Christian  that  his 
sister  should  give  money  to  the  Muslims  in  Miss 
Wilding's  name.  Yet  this  it  was  which  angered 
Deyr  Amun,  where  considerable  indignation  was 
aroused  against  Jemileh,  who,  people  said,  was  noth- 
ing better  than  an  atheist.  She,  poor  harassed 
creature,  was  aware  of  the  ill-feeling,  but  could  not 

212 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  213 

spare  a  moment  from  her  watch  upon  her  mistress  to 
go  among  the  people  and  explain.  A  spell  of  sultry 
weather,  making  Elsie  fretful,  increased  the  heavy 
burden  of  the  life  she  led. 

One  day  an  orderly  rode  up  on  horseback,  the 
bearer  of  a  letter  for  Miss  Wilding  from  Emineh 
Khanum.  The  messenger  was  given  some  refresh- 
ment while  Elsie  read  the  letter  and  discussed  her 
answer  with  Jemileh.  Emineh's  wedding  was  to 
take  place  on  the  morrow.  She  begged,  entreated 
Elsie  to  be  present.  The  bridegroom's  home  was 
far  away  at  Monastir.  It  might  be  the  last  time 
that  they  would  ever  see  each  other. 

"I'd  go  if  I  was  you,"  advised  Jemileh.  "You'll 
see  their  funny  customs.  They  are  not  bad  beeble." 

"You  know  you  always  told  me  they  were  bad. 
You  think  them  so,"  replied  her  mistress  irritably. 
"I  never  really  liked  that  girl.  I  always  feel  un- 
settled and  unhappy  after  seeing  her.  Yet  she  will 
cling  to  me.  Look  at  this  letter  after  I've  refused 
the  invitation  formally  and  sent  my  present.  It  is 
persecution." 

"Berhabs  she  really  wish  to  see  you  to  say  some- 
thing. She'll  think  it  quite  unkind  of  you  to  stob 
away." 

"I  can't  go.  I  should  have  to  miss  our  service  at 
Aineyn." 

"I  think  a  fisit  to  the  town  would  do  you  good. 
You  work  so  hard  these  weeks.  You  need  a  little 
change." 


214  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

"I  shall  say  that  I  am  ill  and  cannot  come.  I 
really  am  ill  with  this  dreadful  heat." 

Jemileh's  secret  hope  that  Elsie  might  not  only 
miss  the  service  at  Aineyn,  but  also  find  diversion  in 
the  city  from  her  projects  of  conversion  which  grew 
more  alarming  daily,  was  thus  slain.  Elsie  would 
not  go  down  to  the  wedding  nor  would  she  enter- 
tain the  notion  of  a  visit  to  the  city.  The  heat,  she 
said,  would  be  intense  down  there,  and  what  amuse- 
ment could  she  hope  to  find?  There  was  no  one  in 
the  country  whom  she  cared  to  see. 

"She  mourns  for  the  Khawajah  Fenn,"  remarked 
Jemileh  to  herself.  "Her  soul  repents  of  driving 
him  away." 

Moved  by  Jemileh's  picture  of  her  loneliness,  still 
more  by  the  suggestion,  deftly  made,  that  the  mis- 
sionaries would  be  much  astonished  by  her  progress 
at  Aineyn,  Elsie  did  at  length  invite  Miss  Sophy 
Berenger,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Edison  and  Mr.  Jones  to 
stay  with  her  for  a  few  days.  But  their  visit  proved 
a  failure  from  Jemileh's  point  of  view,  since  their 
astonishment  at  her  success  encouraged  Elsie.  Mr. 
Jones  went  with  them  to  Aineyn,  and  gave  a  short 
address.  His  Arabic  was  good,  his  tone  concilia- 
tory; and  the  people  heard  him  gladly,  saying  it 
was  Muslim  talk.  He  congratulated  Elsie  gravely 
on  her  missionary  prowess,  with  the  result  that,  in 
her  conversation  with  Jemileh  afterwards,  she  spoke 
of  the  Aineyn  people  almost  as  her  converts,  and 
planned  their  full  instruction  in  the  Christian  faith. 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  215 

And  no  sooner  had  her  visitors  departed  than  she 
began  to  put  her  plan  in  practice,  deaf  to  all  Jemi- 
leh's  veiled  remonstrances. 

Once  more,  Jemileh  knew  the  fear  of  death,  while 
Faris  manifested  fierce  excitement  and  a  holy  joy. 
Distractedly  she  begged  forgiveness  of  the  sheykh 
for  Elsie's  rudeness,  declaring  that  it  was  an  illness 
— she  was  not  accountable. 

The  Muslim  villagers  were  most  long-suffering. 
But  hearing  their  belief  insulted  regularly  once  a 
week,  even  by  a  woman  of  deranged  intelligence, 
could  not  be  pleasant  to  them.  Jemileh,  keen  of 
hearing  in  her  apprehension,  heard  men  grumbling, 
asking  Allah  what  abominable  crime  they  had  com- 
mitted to  be  afflicted  in  this  manner  week  by  week. 
The  sheykh  suggested  to  her  very  gently  that  the 
lady  should  be  taken  to  distress  some  other  place,  by 
way  of  change. 

"Allah  forbid !"  she  wailed  in  whispers,  wringing 
her  hands  and  turning  up  her  eyes  to  Heaven.  "How 
can  I  take  her  among  strangers?  Unaware  of  her 
infirmity,  they  would  stone  her  till  she  died,  with  us 
her  servants." 

"True,"  agreed  the  sheykh  and  all  the  elders, 
upon  brief  reflection.  "But  still  it  is  extremely 
hard  on  us.  It  may  be  dangerous  for  her  in  time. 
Our  folk  grow  restive." 

Jemileh,  as  has  been  already  said,  had  made  a 
trifling  gift  of  money  to  the  sheykh  each  week — 
"for  the  poor"  as  she  expressed  it  diplomatically. 


216  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

She  contrived  to  do  this  sometimes  by  persuasion 
of  Miss  Wilding,  more  often  by  economies  upon  the 
housekeeping.  A  day  came  when  the  sheykh  thrust 
back  her  hand,  exclaiming  — 

"Wherefore  give  me  money  every  week?  If  we 
bear  the  lady's  insults  it  is  through  compassion. 
And  our  patience,  God  knows,  may  not  last  for  ever. 
Put  back  the  money  in  thy  purse  and  go  in  peace." 

At  those  words  Jemileh's  very  soul  was  paralyzed. 
Her  terror  gave  her  strength  to  tell  her  mistress 
what  had  happened;  but  Elsie  only  laughed  at  her 
forebodings,  her  own  view  being  that  the  Ai'neyn 
people  were  quite  friendly,  and  that  they  enjoyed 
the  meetings,  in  which  they  were  beginning  to  take 
an  intelligent  interest.  If  some  fanatics  in  the 
village  wished  to  stop  those  meetings,  it  only  proved 
that  they  were  having  some  effect;  she  could  not 
now  turn  back;  and  so  on,  till  Jemileh  could  have 
screamed  and  killed  herself. 

The  dark  girl  knew  not  where  to  look  for  help. 
She  could  not  have  recourse  to  the  priest,  lacking 
time  for  a  long  explanation.  Antun  and  all  the 
village  blamed  her  for  the  money  squandered  on  the 
Muslims,  exaggerated  by  the  tongue  of  rumour  to 
a  monstrous  sum.  Besides,  she  shrank  from  publish- 
ing her  inability  to  move  the  Sitt  a  hand's  breadth 
from  her  path  of  madness.  After  the  next  meeting 
she  took  the  headman  of  Ai'neyn  aside,  described  to 
him  her  plight,  and  begged  for  mercy. 

<4Why    should    we    suffer    for    thy    sake?"    he 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  217 

answered  sternly,  "because  thou  art  incompetent  to 
guard  thy  lady,  yet  wouldst  keep  respect?  For 
thy  lady  we  have  all  compassion,  for  thee  none. 
Come  not  again  into  our  village,  thou  or  the  lad  thy 
brother.  Let  the  lady  come  alone.  She  will  be 
safe  with  us — safer,  God  knows,  than  with  such 
snakes  as  thou  art.  If  thou  comest  hither  after  this 
we  shall  know  what  to  do." 

"I  must  be  with  her.  How  can  I  desert  my  lady  ?" 
moaned  Jemileh,  stricken  as  with  palsy. 

"Do  what  pleases  thee,  but  I  have  warned  thee," 
said  the  sheykh. 

At  once  on  her  return  to  Deyr  Amun,  Jemileh 
went  for  counsel  to  the  Sheykh  Bakir.  She  found 
him  sitting  on  a  chair  beneath  the  fine  arcade  before 
his  house,  Abdullah  Shukri  standing  near  with  back 
against  a  pillar.  It  was  with  immense  relief  that 
she  beheld  those  two  alone,  for  on  the  way  she  had 
been  dreading  there  might  be  a  crowd.  In  presence 
of  those  two,  who  were  as  one,  she  could  speak 
freely. 


XXVI 

"HAVE  no  fear,"  exclaimed  Bakir,  when  he  had 
listened  to  Jemileh's  story. 

"The  people  of  Ai'neyn  will  not  molest  thee  or  thy 
lady.  The  sheykh  is  a  hot-tempered  man;  I  know 
him  well.  Something  had  occurred  to  anger  him, 
and  he  spoke  fiercely.  He  has  told  me  more  than 
once  that  he  is  pleased  to  see  thy  lady  and  that  his 
people  take  a  pleasure  in  her  conversation." 

"That  was  so  while  she  was  content  to  speak  to 
them  about  the  patriarchs,"  Jemileh  wailed,  "but 
now  she  makes  attacks  on  their  religion." 

"Merciful  Allah!  Is  that  so?"  exclaimed  Bakir, 
astonished.  He  sat  in  thought  a  minute,  before 
adding:  "But  still  I  cannot  think  that  there  is  any 
danger.  She  is  a  woman,  and  thou  sayest  that  they 
think  her  mad.  It  may  be  they  suspect  thee  of 
inciting  her.  It  seems  unlikely,  yet  it  may  be  so.  Do 
as  the  sheykh  said:  Let  the  lady  go  without  thee. 
Have  no  fear." 

"How  can  I  fail  her?  She  will  seek  to  know  the 
reason,  and  I  cannot  lie  successfully  when  she  looks 
straight  at  me.  Besides,  there  may  be  danger  for 
her.  The  sheykh  was  very  angry.  He  refused  the 
money — an  unheard-of  thing!"  Jemileh  whimpered. 

218 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  219 

"By  Allah,  now  I  see  it!  It  was  that  which 
angered  him.  He  is  a  man  of  honour  and  most  hos- 
pitable. He  objected  to  have  money  given  him  at 
every  visit,  as  if  his  hospitality  had  been  for  sale. 
Have  no  fear,  I  tell  thee." 

"By  Allah,  have  no  fear,"  put  in  Abdullah  Shukri, 
who  admired  Jemileh  with  a  laughing  pity,  seeing 
her  unfounded  terrors  and  the  subtlety  which  she 
expended  on  such  simple  plans.  "I  myself  will  see 
the  headman  of  Ai'neyn  and  make  all  smooth  before 
you  go  again." 

"She  torments  herself  with  fancies,"  he  informed 
his  lord  when  she  had  gone. 

"I  think  so  also,"  said  Bakir  good-naturedly. 

But  on  the  morrow  they  were  forced  to  change 
their  minds,  for  Abdullah,  when  he  woke  his  master 
in  the  morning,  had  to  tell  him  that  the  headman  of 
Ameyn,  Muhammed  Abdu,  and  three  elders,  Hasan, 
Nur-ed-din,  and  Abdul  Cader,  had  been  waiting 
under  the  arcade  since  sunrise.  Bakir  gave  order 
that  they  were  to  be  admitted,  and  when  he  knew  the 
object  of  their  visit,  sprang  up  in  great  excitement 
and  began  to  dress  himself,  regardless  of  their  pres- 
ence in  the  room. 

"Admit  that  it  is  hard  on  us,"  their  spokesman 
urged,  "to  have  to  listen  to  this  lady  every  week. 
The  Franks  are  powerful  and  arrogant.  Their  con- 
suls justify  their  every  action.  How  can  poor 
Muslimin  like  us  hope  to  obtain  redress  against  an 
English  lady?  Yet,  if  this  plague  continues,  harm 


220  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

may  come  to  her.  Our  people  murmur.  They 
declare  that  they  have  seen  the  boy  and  girl,  her 
servants,  grin  delightedly  when  she  insults  our  Faith. 
They  say  the  Nazarenes  have  set  her  on  to  anger 
us  in  order  to  make  trouble  which  may  furnish  an 
excuse  for  war,  so  that  the  Franks  may  send  an 
army  to  destroy  us.  Thee  we  know  for  a  just  man, 
a  lover  of  poor  people,  no  fanatic.  We  hear  that 
thou  art  of  the  friends  of  this  poor  lady.  Persuade 
her  to  give  up  tormenting  us.  For  the  love  of 
Allah,  we  beseech  thee,  O  benign  of  heart !" 

"Wallahi,"  laughed  the  Sheykh  Bakir,  "I  have 
no  power  to  move  her ;  and  the  madness  which  afflicts 
her  is  so  common  with  the  Franks  that  they  regard 
it  but  as  natural  conduct.  She  is  otherwise  the 
pearl  of  ladies,  kind  and  simple.  I  would  protect 
her  from  the  ignominy  of  a  public  scandal  no  less 
than  I  would  save  you  from  a  persecution  which  you 
find  unbearable.  I  go  directly  to  the  city,  to  the 
Wali's  Excellency.  Have  patience  until  my  return. 
All  will  be  well,  in  sh'Allah." 

"In  sh'Allah !"  cried  the  deputation,  smiling  as  one 
man.  His  genial,  sympathetic  tone  relieved  their 
minds. 

In  half  an  hour  the  Sheykh  Bakir  was  in  the 
saddle.  It  was  still  quite  early,  and  the  shutters  of 
Miss  Wilding's  house  were  not  yet  opened,  he  ob- 
served, as  he  careered  along  the  terrace  just  below 
it.  By  the  fourth  hour  of  the  day  he  reached  the 
city  and,  after  stabling  his  mare,  went  straight  to 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  221 

the  government  buildings.  There  he  sat  and  waited, 
smoking,  with  a  crowd  of  small  officials  in  the  Wall's 
anteroom,  until  his  Excellency  was  at  leisure  to 
receive  him — a  full  hour.  But  when  once  he  stood 
in  presence  of  the  Wall  there  was  no  more  loss  of 
time.  Hearing  his  errand,  Hasan  Pasha  took  a  pen 
and  wrote  upon  a  sheet  of  note-paper,  while  he 
remarked — 

"Well  done,  to  come  at  once  to  me!  The  matter 
is  indeed  most  serious.  I  had  already  warned  that 
lady  of  the  danger  and  indecency  of  such  behaviour. 
Our  lord  reward  thy  vigilance,  O  sheykh.  Here, 
take  this  note  in  my  handwriting  to  the  English 
Consulate.  The  Consul  will  no  doubt  receive  thee. 
Tell  thy  story,  and  then  come  hither  and  report  his 
judgment — or  no,  I  may  have  left  ere  then.  Go  to 
my  house."  Ten  minutes  later  Bakir  was  with  the 
English  Consul,  who  received  him  kindly,  but,  when 
he  knew  his  business,  showed  extreme  annoyance, 
ruffling  his  hair  and  stamping  up  and  down. 

"I  suppose  I  must  go  with  you  to  the  Wali !"  he 
exclaimed  at  length  in  accents  of  despair. 

He  went  much  further  with  Bakir,  for  at  the 
third  hour  after  noon  they  were  approaching  Deyr 
Amun  together,  the  Consul  in  full  state  with  his 
Cawwas  before  him.  This  servant  was  resplendent 
in  pale  blue  and  silver,  while  the  Consul  was  in  white ; 
as  if  (thought  Sheykh  Bakir)  the  great  one  had 
removed  his  dignity,  finding  it  too  hot  to  carry,  and 
had  made  of  it  another  man  to  ride  before  him. 


222  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

The  splendour  of  that  servant,  seen  afar,  caused 
folks  to  hasten  to  the  housetops  and  scramble  down 
the  terraces  of  Deyr  Amun.  The  rumour  of  the 
Consul's  coming  spread  like  wildfire.  He  had  not 
been  ten  minutes  in  Miss  Wilding's  house  before 
there  was  a  crowd  upon  the  terrace,  questioning  the 
servants,  and  admiring  the  Cawwas,  who  said  no 
word  to  any  one,  but  sat  at  ease  upon  a  chair  which 
had  been  placed  for  him  beside  the  doorway,  one 
hand  upon  the  handle  of  his  monstrous  scimitar.  By 
then  the  Consul  had  already  had  his  conversation 
with  Miss  Wilding.  It  was  not  a  long  one. 

"I  command  you  to  stop  teasing  those  poor  people 
at  Aineyn.  If  you  disobey  my  order  you  will  force 
me  to  report  the  matter,  in  which  case  you  will 
probably  be  asked  to  leave  the  country." 

Elsie,  taken  by  surprise,  was  cowed  completely. 
"But  there  has  been  no  trouble,"  she  objected  won- 
deringly.  "The  people  seemed  to  like  the  meetings ; 
they  were  well  attended.  We  were  getting  on  so 
splendidly." 

"The  sheykh  of  the  village  has  complained  to  the 
authorities,  declaring  that  the  meetings,  as  you  call 
them — he  used  another  word,  he  called  them  insults 
— if  continued,  may  cause  very  serious  trouble.  I 
have  no  option  but  to  order  you  to  stop  them,  with 
all  the  authority  which  I  possess  as  representing 
England." 

"Then  there  is  no  more  to  be  said,  of  course. 
There  will  be  no  more  meetings." 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  228 

"Thank  you,"  said  the  Consul,  and  he  changed 
his  tone  for  a  facetious  one  to  add:  "Now,  since 
I've  ridden  all  this  way  on  your  account,  the  least 
that  you  can  do  is  to  offer  me  a  cup  of  tea." 

"With  pleasure,"  was  the  rather  cold  response, 
as  Elsie  went  to  give  the  necessary  orders.  She 
took  the  same  occasion  to  inform  Jemileh  of  the 
Consul's  errand. 

"What  have  I  been  telling  you  all  this  time,  Miss 
Elsie?"  cried  the  latter,  doing  her  best  to  hide  her 
inward  rapture  at  the  news.  "It's  no  good  breachin' 
to  the  Muslims.  They  are  such  fanatic  beeble." 

"Nonsense!"  snapped  Elsie.  "Can't  you  see?  Our 
mission  has  been  too  successful.  There  is  an  imme- 
diate prospect  of  the  people  of  Aineyn  becoming 
converts.  The  Turkish  governor  becomes  alarmed, 
and  hurries  to  the  British  Consul  with  this  cock-and- 
bull  story  of  impending  riots.  It  is  as  clear  as  day- 
light. They  are  capable  of  organizing  riots ;  they 
are  capable  of  anything  in  such  a  case.  That  is  the 
only  danger  of  the  situation.  That  and  nothing  else 
impels  me  to  give  up  the  meetings." 

To  contend  for  truth  upon  a  matter  past  and 
done  with  would  have  seemed  the  height  of  folly  to 
Jemileh.  Her  end  was  won,  her  weekly  martyrdom 
was  over.  Her  one  fear  now  was  lest  the  purpose 
of  the  Consul's  visit  should  be  noised  abroad,  and 
Miss  Wilding  consequently  lowered  in  the  eyes  of 
Deyr  Amun.  Accordingly,  as  soon  as  Elsie  left  her, 
she  went  and  told  her  brother  Faris,  as  a  secret, 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 


that  the  Consul's  errand  to  their  mistress  was  polit- 
ical and  most  important.  The  meetings  at  Aineyn 
were  to  be  discontinued  while  he,  the  Consul,  forced 
concessions  from  the  Wali.  She  would  say  no  more. 

"Praise  be  to  Allah!"  answered  Faris,  much  im- 
pressed. "It  is  good  to  know  that  they  will  be  hu- 
miliated, though  I  shall  miss  the  sight  of  their  glum 
faces  once  a  week." 

He  carried  the  great  news  at  once  into  the  crowd, 
and  so  it  came  to  be  believed  in  Deyr  Amun  that  the 
British  Consul  was  at  one  with  Elsie  in  showing  fa- 
vour to  the  Muslims  of  Aineyn.  His  stopping  at 
the  latter  village  on  his  way  back  to  the  city  con- 
firmed this  notion  in  the  public  mind.  The  British 
Government  for  some  political  advantage  was  co- 
quetting with  the  Muslim  population.  It  was  as- 
serted that  Miss  Wilding,  at  the  Consul's  instiga- 
tion, would  buy  land  at  Aineyn,  and  build  on  it  that 
very  hospital  which  Deyr  Amun  had  waited  for  so 
long  in  vain.  The  Christians  murmured  of  intense 
disgust. 


XXVII 

"JEMIL-EH,  I've  decided:  when  this  storm  in  a 
teacup  has  blown  over  we  will  go  to  work  at  El 
Macam  and  other  Muslim  villages.  We'll  have  a 
little  camp  and  move  about.  I've  been  thinking  over 
all  my  speeches  at  Ai'neyn,  and  I  see  now  plainly 
that  I  made  mistakes.  I  intend  to  let  you  do  the 
speaking  when  we  start  again." 

Jemileh  had  been  happy  sitting  underneath  the 
umbrella  pines,  dictating  simple  phrases  like  "the 
cat  is  black"  to  six  small  village  children  holding 
slates  before  them,  when  Elsie  came  to  her  with 
that  announcement  and,  having  made  it,  went  away 
again.  She  felt  as  if  the  firmament  had  given 
way.  She  could  not  well  dismiss  the  children  till 
their  time  was  up,  having  put  off  their  lesson  once 
already  that  same  morning.  It  was  now  the  after- 
noon. There  was  a  sighing  in  the  pine-boughs  over- 
head, suggestive  of  a  coolness  which  had  no  exist- 
ence. Outside  the  patch  of  inky  shade  in  which  she 
sat  with  her  disciples,  the  whole  world  baked  and 
sweltered  in  tremendous  heat. 

It  was  not  the  first  time  since  the  Consul's  visit 
that  Elsie  had  approached  the  subject  of  a  fresh  at- 
tack upon  the  Muslims.  The  enforced  repose  from 

225 


226  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

missionary  labours,  together  with  much  riding  ex- 
ercise, had  made  her  sanguine.  But  now  she  for- 
mally announced  her  resolution  not  only  to  renew 
her  mad  attempt  upon  a  larger  scale,  but  also  to 
throw  all  the  burden  of  it  on  Jemileh. 

In  that  black  hour  Jemileh  hated  Elsie.  She 
thought  of  going  to  Amin  the  murderer  with  money 
— Elsie's  money;  she  would  steal  it  for  the  purpose 
— and  persuading  him  to  teach  her  mistress  shame. 
She  thought  of  being  murdered  like  poor  Percy  Sala- 
man — whom  she  chose  to  think  of  as  deceased  to 
save  her  pride.  What  Elsie  needed  was  a  shock  of 
personal  emotion,  something  to  make  her  feel  that 
she  possessed  a  heart.  If  only  Mr.  Fenn  had  not 
departed!  If  only  Allah,  the  All  Merciful,  would 
send  him  back!  Was  it  for  this  that  she  (Jemileh) 
had  angered  all  the  village,  even  her  own  parents, 
by  her  zeal  for  Elsie's  interests?  The  people  could 
bear  witness  to  her  perfect  service.  They  would 
pity  her  and  blame  her  wicked  mistress,  when  they, 
knew  the  truth,  and  they  should  know  it  presently. 
She  need  no  longer  make  a  secret  of  her  lack  of  in- 
fluence, since  her  rupture  with  the  Sitt  would  make 
it  common  talk.  She  would  be  obliged  to  return  to 
the  Misses  Berenger,  as  a  servant  under  orders  from 
the  Sitt  Afifeh,  or  else  to  live  with  her  parents  here 
in  Deyr  Amun,  helping  her  mother  in  the  fields,  a 
wretched  peasant.  She  had  done  all  things  for  the 
Englishwoman  who  would  thus  degrade  her.  The 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  227 

village  should  hear  all  that  she  had  done  and  judge 
between  them. 

All  this  was  seething  in  her  brain  while  she  went 
on  dictating  to  the  children,  mechanically,  in  a  voice 
unlike  her  own.  The  lesson  ended,  she  repaired  in- 
doors, put  on  her  lace  mantilla  and  white  cotton 
gloves,  took  up  her  parasol,  and  was  just  going  out 
when  Elsie  called  to  her:  "Jemileh!  Is  that  you? 
Come  here!  I  want  you." 

The  habit  of  obedience  to  that  voice  was  strong 
in  her.  She  hesitated  for  a  moment  while  her  cour- 
age flickered;  then  suddenly  the  sense  of  grievance 
overwhelmed  her,  her  courage  flamed,  and  with  an 
angry  sob  she  fled  the  house. 

Ten  minutes  later  she  approached  the  door  of 
Antun's  dwelling.  Like  every  other  door  in  Deyr 
Amun,  in  summer  it  stood  open  all  day  long.  She 
felt  extremely  nervous,  much  inclined  to  cry.  The 
priest  received  her  coldly,  as  she  had  expected.  His 
wife  and  children  were  indoors  with  him;  but,  far 
from  seeking  privacy  for  her  confession,  Jemileh 
would  have  called  the  world  to  witness  it.  The  story 
was  a  long  one  as  she  told  it,  with  plentiful  digres- 
sions and  appeals  to  Allah  and  the  saints.  The 
priest  throughout  preserved  his  cold  demeanour. 
When  Jemileh  had  exhausted  all  the  words  that  came 
to  her,  he  pushed  back  the  long  hair  from  off  his 
temples,  looking  straight  at  her  with  a  strong  sneer. 

"By  Allah,  it  appears  to  me  that  thou  art  rightly 
served,  O  clever  lady !  Didst  thou  not  come  to  me 


228  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

one  morning,  with  just  such  another  piteous  tale, 
protesting  that  the  Englishwoman's  wish  to  benefit 
the  Ai'neyn  people  was  most  hateful  to  thee?  Yet 
thou  it  was,  we  know,  who  gave  them  money  every 
week."  That  squandering  of  untold  wealth  on  infi- 
dels had  injured  Antun  personally,  for  the  men  who 
had  agreed  to  pay  him  yearly  tribute  for  his  abso- 
lution now  refused  the  money  because  Miss  Wild- 
ing's favours  had  not  come  their  way.  He  there- 
fore spoke  with  bitter  feeling  on  this  subject.  "The 
Lord  knows  how  much  thou  didst  give;  I  ask  thee 
not;  but  whether  it  was  much  or  little,  thou  hast 
defrauded  Christendom  of  that  amount." 

"I  gave  it  for  our  lives,  in  fear  of  death,"  fal- 
tered Jemileh. 

"Your  lives  ?  A  pretty  tale !  Where  was  the  dan- 
ger? The  preaching  was  not  serious,  or  they  would 
not  have  borne  with  it  through  all  those  weeks. 
What  she  said — by  Allah,  I  can  hear  her  saying  it ! 
— was  'Your  religion  is  the  same  as  ours ;  black  is 
really  white;  a  goat  is  after  all  a  sheep  if  one  re- 
gards it  rightly;  come  unto  me  and  I  will  give  you 
money.'  That  is  the  way  they  all  begin,  these  hypo- 
crites !" 

"Stop,  O  our  father!  By  the  Gospel  thou  art  ut- 
terly deceived."  Jemileh  interrupted  with  a  sudden 
change  of  voice  from  woe  to  triumph.  "The  case 
was  not  so.  Hadst  thou  heard  her,  thou  wouldst 
have  trembled  for  our  lives  as  I  did.  She  insulted 
their  religion,  called  their  Prophet  evil  names,  bid- 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  229 

ding  them  repent  of  their  false  doctrines  and  iniqui- 
ties— all  in  the  language  of  the  kitchen  and  the  sta- 
ble, pronounced  as  owls  pronounce — poor  foolish 
lady.  The  taste  of  death  was  in  my  mouth,  by  Al- 
lah !  I  told  them  the  plain  truth,  that  she  was 
mad." 

"What  words  are  these?"  exclaimed  the  priest, 
incredulous,  yet  deeply  interested  in  this  new  dis- 
closure. He  put  some  searching  questions  to  the 
girl  until,  convinced  that  she  was  speaking  truth  at 
last,  he  lay  back  on  the  couch  and  roared  with 
laughter.  Recovering  enough  to  speak,  he  told  the 
children  to  run  out  and  call  the  neighbours;  then 
rolled  again  on  the  divan  in  helpless  mirth.  Jemi- 
leh  now  for  the  first  time  aware  that  there  was  some- 
thing comic  in  the  tale  which  she  had  deemed  so 
grievous,  perceiving  also  that  the  laugh  was  not 
against  herself  or  Elsie,  but  the  Muslims  of  Ai'neyn, 
was  moved  to  smile. 

She  told  the  tale  anew  for  every  comer,  adopting 
a  facetious  tone  in  keeping  with  her  altered  feelings, 
delighted  to  be  once  more  popular.  Paris  was  sum- 
moned. He  confirmed  her  story,  but  took  excep- 
tion to  the  general  laughter.  He  swore  by  Allah 
that  his  mistress  was  a  saint,  and  had  assailed  the 
Muslims  like  a  lioness,  taunting  them  with  their  ill- 
deeds,  their  unbelief.  By  then  the  room  was  full  to 
overflowing.  His  earnestness  increased  the  roar  of 
laughter.  It  came  out  that  the  purpose  of  the  Con- 
sul's famous  visit  had  been  to  stop  the  English- 


230  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

woman's  preaching,  which  had  galled  the  luckless 
Muslims  past  endurance. 

"Praise  to  Allah!"  cried  the  priest,  transported. 
"I  thank  the  Lord  that  I  have  lived  to  see  this  day. 
Had  I  died  yesterday  I  should  have  missed  the  best 
of  life.  Excellent  lady!  Let  her  go  on  and  on, 
enrage  them  more  and  more  until  they  burst  with 
rage  contained.  They  dare  not  touch  her,  for  is 
she  not  protected  by  the  Powers  of  Europe?  It  is 
well  seen  that  El  Islam  .is  finished,  praise  to  Allah !" 

"Allah  forbid!"  cried  out  Jemileh  wildly.  "My 
care  is  to  prevent  her  going  on.  We  shall  be  stoned 
to  death." 

"Nay,  have  no  fear!"  exclaimed  an  elder.  "Thou 
hast  but  to  inform  the  Consul;  he  will  stop  her. 
But  let  her  taunt  them  once  or  twice,  I  do  adjure 
thee.  By  Allah,  we  will  all  escort  her  like  an  army. 
We  will  disguise  ourselves  as  Muslims  for  the  joy 
of  hearing." 

Jemileh  left  the  house  of  Antun  in  a  state  of  spirit 
vastly  different  from  that  in  which  she  had  ap- 
proached it  but  an  hour  before.  She  had  lost  her 
sense  of  grievance,  and  all  bitter  feeling  towards  her 
mistress.  She  now  had  all  the  village  on  her  side. 

"Where  have  you  been?"  was  Elsie's  question 
when  Jemileh  entered.  "I  hunted  for  you  every- 
where to  know  where  you  had  put  those  prayer- 
books." 

"I  am  fery  sorry  I  was  out  when  you  required 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  231 

me.  The  beeble  told  me  one  of  my  relations  was 
so  fery  ill  that  I  ran  out  to  fisit  her  at  once." 

"I'm  sorry  to  hear  that.     Who  is  it?" 

"Umm  Abdullah.  I  don't  think  you'f  seen  her. 
She  is  not  quite  so  ill  as  beeble  told  me,  I  am  glad 
to  say." 

Jemileh  was  exceedingly  attentive  and  amiable  to 
her  mistress  all  that  evening.  Though  Elsie  talked 
about  her  missionary  projects,  Jemileh  neither 
shuddered  nor  turned  pale,  but  listened  with  indul- 
gence as  to  sick  imaginings. 

Next  morning,  having  finished  with  her  little 
school — the  children  waited  in  the  olive-grove  be- 
hind the  house  until  she  called  them  for  an  hour's 
instruction — Jemileh  sat  with  Elsie  on  the  terrace 
doing  needlework.  The  English  girl  would  talk 
about  her  great  campaign  against  the  Muslims,  and 
Jemileh,  though  she  listened  with  a  show  of  grave 
attention,  surveyed  the  landscape  in  the  hope  of 
some  relief.  Four  women  and  some  little  boys  were 
picking  grapes  among  the  vineyards  up  above  the 
palace  of  the  Sheykh  Bakir.  Lower  down  on  the 
same  slope,  a  man  sat  cross-legged  in  the  shade  of 
fruit-trees.  No  other  human  being  was  in  sight. 
Jemileh  turned  her  gaze  round  to  the  opposite  di- 
rection, where  she  could  see  another  mountain-side 
in  profile,  with  trees  and  houses  rising  to  the  little 
church,  above  which  was  a  rocky  crown  of  barren 
land.  As  her  eyes  rested  on  that  height,  she  was 
aware  of  men  and  horses  moving,  first  against  the 


232  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

sky,  then  coming  down  the  surface  of  grey  rock  and 
withered  grass.  She  gave  but  little  heed  to  the  phe- 
nomenon, although  she  watched  it,  till  a  white  spot 
appeared  upon  the  level  ground  behind  the  church. 
A  tent  was  being  pitched — two  tents,  and  a  canvas 
wind-screen  for  the  cook's  fire,  she  counted  while  her 
mistress  still  kept  talking  madness.  Horses  and 
mules  were  hobbled  and  allowed  to  graze.  A  flag, 
which  presently  went  up  above  the  largest  tent, 
looked  red  at  first  until  Jemileh  narrowed  her  long- 
sighted eyes  upon  it,  when  it  proved  to  be  the  Union 
Jack,  the  flag  of  England.  "Some  missionaries," 
her  soul  told  her  with  disgust,  for  missionaries  had 
a  bad  effect  on  Elsie.  Then  a  malicious  thought  oc- 
curred to  her. 

"I  wish  that  Mr.  Fenn  would  come  again!"  she 
murmured,  turning  to  look  at  Elsie,  who,  to  her  sat- 
isfaction, blushed  a  lively  crimson.  She  looked  away 
again  and  added:  "It  is  such  a  bity  that  he  went 
away.  He  luffed  you  so.  I  think  he  would  haf  got 
religion  from  you  if  he'd  stayed  a  bit." 

"Jemileh !  How  often  have  I  told  you  my  ob- 
jection to  that  stupid  phrase?  You  must  not  use 
it.  Religion  isn't  a  disease,"  snapped  Elsie,  glad 
to  cover  her  confusion.  But  Jemileh  had  an  arrow 
in  reserve.  She  pointed  to  the  height  above  the 
church,  exclaiming — 

"An  English  traffeler  has  come.  There  is  the 
English  flag." 

Having  given   time   for  hope   to   rise   in   Elsie's 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  233 

bosom,  she  subjoined:  "I  fear  that  it  is  only  stubid 
missionaries." 

"You  must  not  talk  like  that!" 

"Why  not,  Miss  Elsie  dear?  Are  they  not  stubid 
when  we  wish  for  Mr.  Fenn?" 

Miss  Wilding  made  no  answer.  She  soon  went  in- 
doors, when  Faris  came  with  horror  to  inform  his 
sister  that  the  small  khawajah  had  in  truth  returned 
and  was  encamped  up  by  the  church.  He  was  much 
astonished  when  she  praised  God  for  the  tidings. 

"But  he  will  try  to  win  her  as  he  did  before." 

"God  grant  that  he  may  win  her.  She  needs  gov-* 
ernment." 

"By  Allah,  thou  art  mistress  of  all  caprice,  O 
daughter  of  a  dog!"  said  Faris  angrily. 

"And  thou  art  destitute  of  all  intelligence,  may 
thy  house  be  destroyed!"  rejoined  Jemileh,  with  a 
scornful  laugh. 

She  did  not  tell  the  news  to  Elsie,  being  unwilling 
to  curtail  the  pleasing  spectacle  of  her  suspense. 
The  fair  girl  needed  suffering  for  education,  and 
had  deserved  it  richly  at  Jemileh's  hands. 

In  proportion  as  the  afternoon  wore  on  and  no 
one  came,  Elsie,  from  merely  nervous,  grew  morose 
and  irritable.  Jemileh,  reckless  in  the  knowledge 
she  alone  possessed,  said  all  she  could  to  aggra- 
vate this  state  of  mind,  till  Elsie  at  the  last,  upon 
a  burst  of  passion,  declared  she  had  a  headache  and 
would  go  to  bed.  She  was  marching  to  the  door 
in  dudgeon  when  the  voice  of  Mr.  Fenn,  uplifted  in 


234.  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

a  salutation  to  the  doorkeeper,  arrested  her.  A 
minute  later  Faris  flung  the  door  wide  open,  and 
the  small  khawajah  entered  with  his  funny  smile 
which  seemed  to  make  a  jest  of  everything,  himself 
included.  Elsie,  on  her  side,  looked  as  cold  as  ice. 
Jemileh  thought  it  best  to  leave  them  to  themselves. 
Outside  the  door  she  heard  him  saying — 

"I  offended  you  the  last  time  I  was  here.  I  didn't 
mean  to,  and  I  want  to  say  I'm  sorry." 

"Have  you  changed  your  views?"  asked  Elsie, 
with  a  touch  of  malice. 

"Can't  say  I  have." 

"Then  what's  the  use  of  saying  that  you're 
sorry  ?" 

Already  they  were  on  the  dreadful  subject  of  re- 
ligion. Jemileh  gave  them  up  to  Allah's  mercy. 


XXVIII 

IN  the  meanwhile  the  delight  of  Deyr  Amun  went 
on  increasing,  and  Miss  Wilding  was  acclaimed  as 
an  avenger  sent  from  God. 

The  Shekyh  Bakir,  although  he  lived  apart,  saw 
many  visitors,  everybody  of  the  least  importance 
in  the  village  going  to  his  house  at  some  time  every 
day  to  pay  respect.  He  heard  a  dozen  different 
versions  of  the  story,  and  corrected  each,  acknowl- 
edging that  he  had  known  the  truth  from  the  begin- 
ning. 

"Why  didst  thou  not  reveal  it?"  Antun  chided. 
"By  Allah,  it  was  no  good  deed  to  hide  it  from  us. 
And  how  couldst  thou  thyself  contain  it  without 
bursting?" 

"I  have  too  much  respect  for  the  lady  to  wish 
to  circulate  a  story  to  her  disadvantage." 

"Her  disadvantage?  Nay,  by  Allah,  it  is  to  her 
honour.  Never  before  did  we  esteem  her  half  so 
highly." 

"Thou  art  a  fanatic,  O  our  father!"  laughed 
Baldr. 

"And  thou  a  free-mason!"  replied  the  priest,  em- 
ploying the  most  deadly  insult  in  his  whole  vocab- 
ulary without  the  least  ill-feeling,  as  his  smiles  at- 
tested. 

235 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

Bakir  essayed  to  reason  with  the  people,  declaring 
that  the  English  lady  had  no  hatred  of  the  Mus- 
lims but  a  liking  rather;  that  her  insults  had  been 
altogether  unintended,  the  mere  result  of  a  defective 
knowledge  of  the  language;  that  her  privileged  po- 
sition as  a  foreign  subject,  having  been  granted  by 
a  Muslim  government  for  her  protection,  could  not 
honourably  be  employed  against  the  Muslims.  This 
only  made  the  joke  scream  louder  to  the  public 
mind.  The  power  of  the  Sitt  Alsi  might  be  all  un- 
conscious: none  the  less  it  gave  the  Christians  the 
command,  since  she,  a  Christian,  could  affront  the 
Muslims  with  impunity.  It  was  reported  that  the 
Wali  of  the  province — that  old  lion  even — had 
fallen  on  his  knees  before  the  English  Consul,  im- 
ploring him  with  tears  to  stop  those  insults  to  the 
Muslims  of  Aineyn,  which  showed  the  common  peo- 
ple all  too  plainly  that  the  power  of  El  Islam  was 
broken.  The  Consul  had  been  well  content  to  hu- 
mour him,  since  the  Christians  were  now  certain  of 
the  mastery.  The  Sitt  enjoyed  the  favour  of  the 
Powers  of  Europe ;  and  her  protection  was  on  Deyr 
Amun,  where  she  resided.  The  men  of  Deyr  Amun 
might  therefore  browbeat  Muslims — aye,  and  chas- 
tise them,  if  they  wished  to  do  so — without  fear  of 
punishment. 

There  was  comparatively  little  intercourse  be- 
tween the  villages.  People  from  Deyr  Amun  had  to 
pass  through  Aineyn  on  their  way  to  the  city,  and 
business  daily  led  some  persons  from  Aineyn  to 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  237 

traverse  Deyr  Amun.  Such  wayfarers  were  always 
courteous  in  their  bearing,  not  so  invariably  those 
whose  camp  they  traversed.  Two  peasants  from 
Ai'neyn,  one  of  them  leading  a  donkey  on  which  sat 
a  veiled  woman  with  a  baby  at  her  breast,  happened 
to  pass  the  principal  tavern  of  Deyr  Amun  one  eve- 
ning just  before  the  sunset,  an  hour  when  many  men, 
some  of  them  already  drunk,  were  sitting  under- 
neath its  arbour.  They  were  greeted  with  derisive 
shouts,  and  asked  how  they  had  enjoyed  the  English- 
woman's sermons. 

"Ha,  she  is  a  truthteller,  a  prophetess,  by  Allah! 
She  let  you  know  the  error  of  your  ways.  She  will 
make  you  kiss  the  Cross  to-morrow.  It  is  known." 

"Allah  forbid!"  exclaimed  the  wayfarers  in  pious 
horror,  for  the  Cross  in  their  opinion  was  a  ghastly 
idol. 

"The  Englishwoman  told  you  what  we  think  of 
you,"  one  drunken  lout  cried  out,  and  spat  towards 
them.  The  population  of  the  tavern  rose,  upset- 
ting chairs.  A  man  exclaimed  in  tones  of  agony — 

"Have  patience,  O  my  masters !  Be  not  as  wild 
beasts!  Eschew  all  rudeness,  all  degrading  vio- 
lence." It  was  Amin  the  murderer.  He  might  as 
well  have  spoken  to  the  vine-boughs  overhead  or 
to  the  setting  sun.  The  Muslims  had  repaid  the 
Christian's  taunt  in  kind.  A  shower  of  stones  pur- 
sued them  from  the  tavern.  Luckily  they  were  by 
that  time  out  of  range.  They  answered  with  a 
mocking  laugh  as  they  sped  on.  The  laugh  was 


238  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

echoed  by  the  crowd  of  Christians,  one  of  whom 
vociferated — 

"Only  wait!  you  shall  learn  manners.  We  will 
teach  you.  We  are  no  longer  children  of  the  Arabs ; 
we  are  English,  by  the  Sitt's  protection.  Learn 
to  kiss  the  ground  between  our  feet,  O  poor  galled 
dogs!" 

After  that,  whenever  anybody  from  Ai'neyn 
showed  face  in  Deyr  Aimln,  he  was  assailed  with 
taunts  about  the  degradation  of  Islam ;  and  the  peo- 
ple of  A'ineyn  retaliated  naturally  upon  men  from 
Deyr  Amun  whose  road  lay  through  their  village. 
There  were  little  brawls.  The  Sheykh  Bakir  de- 
nounced the  Christians,  called  them  beasts  and  imr 
beciles.  They  did  not  care;  the  joy  of  teasing 
ancient  foes  with  safety  made  them  deaf  to  argu- 
ments. He  called  a  council  of  the  elders  of  Ai'neyn, 
who  promised  him,  for  the  respect  they  bore  him 
personally,  to  restrain  their  people  from  offensive 
measures  so  long  as  Deyr  Amun  confined  its  provo- 
cation to  mere  words  and  random  stone-throwing. 
All  was  in  vain. 

One  afternoon  some  Christian  children,  happen- 
ing to  have  wandered  down  into  the  wady,  were 
playing  on  the  bed  of  rocks  beside  the  torrent  which 
at  that  season  could  be  jumped  across  in  many 
places,  when  they  came  upon  some  Muslim  children 
on  the  Deyr  Amun  side  of  the  stream.  They  assailed 
the  trespassers  with  mortal  insults,  which  were  well 
retorted;  and  a  fight  ensued.  The  Muslims,  finding 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  239 

themselves  outnumbered,  ran  at  last,  leaving  one  of 
their  company,  a  little  boy  of  ten,  who  had  been 
stunned  by  falling  on  a  rock.  Him  the  Christians, 
in  their  pious  anger,  killed  with  stones.  A  man  of 
Deyr  Amun,  who  had  been  working  in  a  field  above, 
had  shouted  curses  on  them  for  young  malefactors, 
but  they  had  not  heard  his  voice  in  the  excitement 
of  their  work.  He  now  came  leaping  down  among 
them,  spade  in  hand,  as  they  stood  gaping  round 
their  fallen  enemy,  astonished  to  perceive  that  he 
was  really  dead.  It  was  Amin  the  murderer. 

A  boy  was  saying:  "He  died  quickly.  It  took 
us  a  much  longer  time  to  kill  the  adder." 

"May  your  houses  be  destroyed  and  your  pos- 
terity cut  off  for  ever!"  cried  the  grown-up,  aiming 
blows  to  right  and  left.  "What  work  is  this,  O 
children  of  the  Evil  One?  Now  nothing  under  Al- 
lah can  avert  a  war.  Are  we  never  to  advance  in 
civilization  and  politeness ;  are  we  never  to  escape 
from  violence?"  Amin  was  sobbing.  "Alas,  the 
deed  is  done.  It  is  from  Allah!  And  since  the  deed 
is  done  I  must  needs  help  you."  He  told  them  that 
they  had  killed  the  youngster  as  one  kills  a  Chris- 
tian, not  as  one  kills  a  Muslim.  Distinction  even  in 
the  act  of  murder  must  be  made  between  mere 
heathens  and  the  people  of  the  Cross.  He  showed 
them  how  to  mutilate  the  body  properly — the  sight 
affected  some  of  them  with  sickness — and,  having 
done  so,  made  a  deep  hole  in  the  wady,  stamped 
the  corpse  down  into  it,  and  rolled  a  great  stone  over 


240  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

all,  while  the  children  by  his  orders  covered  every 
trace  of  blood,  and  made  it  seem  as  if  the  place  had 
never  been  disturbed.  He  then  said  "Run!"  and 
they  all  scrambled  up  the  steep  cliff  fledged  with 
brushwood  to  the  terraced  fields,  and  so  on  to  the 
village,  where  Amin  went  straightway  to  the  priest 
to  make  confession. 

Antun,  having  heard  his  tale,  commanded  him  to 
go  at  once  and  tell  the  Sheykh  Bakir  that,  as  the 
mudir  of  the  district,  he  might  warn  the  English 
Consul  that  the  village  where  Miss  Wilding  lived 
was  in  great  danger.  Amin  obeyed.  To  his  in- 
tense surprise  the  Sheykh  Bakir  at  once  arrested 
him  and  sent  him  to  the  city  with  his  hands  bound, 
under  the  escort  of  two  soldiers ;  not  by  the  high 
road,  but  by  lonely  ways  where  was  no  hope  of 
rescue. 


XXIX 

THE  sun  had  set.  The  foot  of  the  mountains  and 
the  plain  beyond  had  faded  into  night;  but  the  high 
slope  of  Deyr  Amun,  the  houses,  orchards,  gardens 
and  the  rocks  above,  still  caught  the  after-glow  and 
shone  out  as  a  landscape  between  earth  and  sky, 
cast  in  such  strong  relief  that  every  thistle,  stone 
and  tuft  of  grass  was  seen  distinctly  on  its  patch 
of  shadow.  The  Sheykh  Bakir,  having  watched 
Amin  the  murderer  and  his  escort  till  they  vanished 
in  the  gloom  below,  remained  upon  the  housetop, 
lost  in  thought.  Abdullah  Shukri  was  up  there  be- 
hind him,  waiting  until  his  lord  should  please  to 
speak. 

Suddenly  a  sound  of  many  voices  rose  up  from 
the  porch.  A  servant  of  the  house  sent  up  a  cry 
of  "Ya  Abdullah !"  Abdullah  Shukri,  thus  invoked, 
arose  and  went  down,  noiseless  in  his  stocking  feet. 
He  soon  returned  and,  going  close  up  to  his  lord, 
said  softly:  "The  sheykh  of  the  village  and  the 
priest  are  there  below,  with  many  others.  Their 
purpose  is  unfriendly.  They  would  make  us  pris- 
oners." 

"I  come,"  replied  the  Sheykh  Bakir,  with  a  great 
yawn,  and  stretched  himself  before  descending. 

241 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

Two  lanterns  hanging  in  the  long  arcaded  porch 
had  been  already  lighted.  Their  rays  shone  on  a 
score  of  faces,  mostly  bearded,  surmounted  by  a 
great  variety  of  headdress,  from  the  tall  black  cyl- 
inder of  the  Orthodox  priest  and  the  coloured  tur- 
ban of  the  village  headman  to  the  deformed  and  tas- 
selless  fez  of  a  huge  uncouth  man  who  leaned  defi- 
antly against  a  pillar  with  arms  folded.  They  all, 
with  the  exception  of  this  last,  saluted  Sheykh  Ba- 
kir,  who  begged  them  to  sit  down,  but  none  com- 
plied. The  headman  appeared  shamefaced  and  the 
priest  demure ;  the  others  awkward,  sullen  or  defiant. 

"O  Efendi,"  began  Antun  the  priest  in  melliflu- 
ous tones.  This  manner  of  address  announced  hos- 
tility, for  only  as  a  Turkish  official  was  Bakir  styled 
Efendi.  Among  the  Christians  and  the  Arabs  gen- 
erally his  rank  was  Sheykh.  "O  Efendi,  the  people 
are  commoved  by  reason  of  the  thing  thou  knowest. 
Their  thoughts  are  of  defence  against  the  Muslimin. 
Thou  hast  reviled  tjiem  in  the  past  and  so  they  fear 
that  thou  wilt  reckon  it  thy  duty  to  oppose  them 
now,  with  thy  few  men,  endeavouring  to  stop  or  mar 
the  work  they  have  to  do;  or  worse,  that  thou  may- 
est  give  a  warning  to  the  government  which,  being 
Muslim,  will  support  our  enemies.  They  would  not, 
for  their  lives,  that  harm  should  come  to  thee. 
Therefore  they  beg  of  thy  exalted  Honour  to  conde- 
scend to  be  confined  awhile  in  this  thy  house,  which 
they  will  guard  from  ill.  Grant  their  petition,  O 
Efendi " 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  243 

"Nay,  O  our  father!  We  make  no  petition!" 
broke  in  the  ruffian  who  leant  up  against  the  pillar. 
"No,  by  the  Cross  of  Christ,  we  give  an  order  which 
shall  be  obeyed.  But  first  we  ask  a  question.  Is 
the  Sheykh  Bakir  here  present  a  Christian  or  a 
Muslim?" 

"Wait  but  a  minute  till  I  teach  thee  manners,  O 
Najib!"  cried  out  Abdullah  Shukri.  "How  darest 
thou  pronounce  such  words  in  such  a  house  as  this, 
revered  of  Christendom?  Think  of  thy  fathers  and 
of  his,  and  be  ashamed,  O  misbegotten  J" 

"The  right  is  with  Abdullah.  Be  more  man- 
nerly !"  put  in  the  headman  of  the  village,  looking 
far  from  happy,  for  he  himself  had  been  a  servant 
in  that  house. 

The  young  churl  gave  his  interrupters  but  one 
angry  look,  and  then  continued — 

"Do  we  forget  how  he  has  called  us  ignorant  fa- 
natics, sons  of  dogs,  and  madmen?  We  bore  with 
his  rude  words  in  time  of  leisure,  but  now,  in  time 
of  business,  we  will  not  endure  them.  It  is  Holy 
War." 

"Hear  me  repeat  those  words !"  cried  out  the 
Sheykh  Bakir,  standing  erect  and  looking  round  on 
the  assembly.  "You  are  ignorant  fanatics,  mad- 
men, sons  of  dogs,  and  in  addition  liars  if  this  per- 
son is  your  spokesman,  for  your  quarrel  is  not  holy, 
Allah  knows !  Some  of  your  children  murdered  a 
small  Muslim  child." 

At  that  arose  loud  outcry  of  denial. 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 


"A  small  child!"  bellowed  one.  "It  was  a  mon- 
strous lout,  almost  a  man  full  grown.  It  was  by 
Allah's  mercy  that  he  fell  and  struck  his  head  or 
he  would  have  slain  all  our  children.  My  two  boys 
were  present  and  they  saw  what  happened.  What 
can  your  Honour  know  about  the  matter?" 

Another  shouted:  "It  was  done  in  self-defence. 
It  was  not  the  children  either  who  destroyed  that 
wild  beast  —  no,  by  Allah  ;  it  was  Amin  the  murderer, 
who  rushed  down  from  his  field  to  help  them  and 
preserve  their  lives.  Where  is  Amin?  He  can  as- 
sure thee  of  the  truth  of  what  I  say." 

"Aye,  where  is  Amin?  I  saw  him  coming  to  this 
house." 

"Thou  hearest,  O  our  father,  how  his  Honour  still 
provokes  and  taunts  us,  even  in  this  hour  of  rage 
and  bitter  grief." 

"The  Muslimin  attacked  our  children,  tried  to 
murder  them!" 

"They  have  sworn  to  root  us  out  of  this  our 
land!" 

"Where  is  Amin?" 

"Aye.  Bring  Amin  !  Let  him  bear  witness  here 
before  us,  and  instruct  his  Honour  !" 

"Amin  is  close  at  hand,"  shouted  Abdullah 
Shukri  so  as  to  be  heard  above  the  tumult.  "His 
Honour  but  repeats  the  story  as  Amin  relates  it. 
Of  that  I  am  a  witness." 

"Where  are  the  Turkish  soldiers  who  attend  his 
Honour?" 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  245 

"Where  else  but  in  the  house?"  replied  Abdullah 
Shukri. 

"Let  them  not  show  their  faces,  or  we  shall  de- 
stroy them." 

"O  sheykh,  for  the  love  of  Allah  and  the  pre- 
servation of  thy  youth,  consent  to  be  a  prisoner 
for  a  few  hours !" 

"Wallahi,  never!  I  will  not  consent.  Know  all 
men  present  that  it  is  against  my  will,"  proclaimed 
Bakir,  when  the  commotion  had  in  part  subsided. 
"Would  you  make  me  an  accomplice  of  your  guilt 
and  folly?  I  am  an  official  of  the  government,  set 
here  to  guide  you.  That  I  shall  do,  so  long  as  I 
remain  at  liberty.  But  if  you  force  me,  I  cannot 
resist  so  great  a  multitude.  Only  bethink  you  of 
the  punishment  hereafter.  Whichever  prove  the 
stronger — you  or  the  A'ineynis — the  government  is 
stronger  yet,  and  will  prevail  eventually.  In  thus 
constraining  me,  a  servant  of  the  government,  you 
but  increase  the  punishment  of  your  misdeeds." 

At  that  there  was  loud  laughter,  mixed  with  cries : 
"Reward  and  punishment  are  with  the  Highest! 
We  will  take  the  risk!"  "The  right  is  with  his 
Honour.  He  submits,  can  you  not  see,  O  block- 
heads? He  is  only  careful  to  secure  his  own  re- 
treat." "Wallahi,  we  must  force  him.  Set  the 
guard  at  once !" 

"Do  as  you  please,"  replied  Bakir  contemptu- 
ously. "You  are  the  stronger  party."  He  kept  ex- 
changing glances  with  Abdullah  Shukri. 


246  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

"Praise  be  to  Allah !"  cried  the  crowd.  "Our  lord 
consents !" 

"It  is  as  well  for  him!"  said  a  rough  growling 
voice.  "Had  he  refused,  God  knows  I  would  have 
killed  him  as  one  kills  a  poison  snake." 

"Enough  of  insults !"  said  Abdullah  Shukri.  "Set 
your  watch  upon  the  house  and  go.  We  wish  to 
sleep." 

There  ensued  a  great  debate  about  the  choice  of 
sentries,  while  Bakir  and  his  attendant  waited  with 
longsuffering  mien.  At  length  five  watchmen  were 
appointed,  each  of  them  duly  armed  with  knife  and 
pistol.  These  squatted  down  beneath  the  porch  and 
all  the  others  streamed  away  into  the  night,  not 
without  words  of  farewell  blessing  on  the  house. 

Bakir  then  went  indoors,  Abdullah  following. 

"I  am  going  to  Aineyn,"  he  said  when  out  of  ear- 
shot of  the  warders. 

"This  night?"  exclaimed  Abdullah  in  alarm. 
"Think  better  of  it,  I  beseech  thee.  All  the  people 
will  be  mad  for  vengeance  against  Deyr  Amun. 
They  may  forget  the  respect  due  to  thee  and  kill 
us." 

"My  mind  is  fixed  to  go.  Our  people  bluster, 
but  I  know  them.  It  is  fear  of  an  attack  that  ani- 
mates them  more  than  courage.  If  I  can  dissuade 
the  Ai'neyn  people  from  attacking,  all  may  yet  be 
well." 

"They  will  surely  kill  thee,"  cried  Abdullah  dis- 
approvingly, and  other  servants  of  the  house  en- 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  247 

deavoured  in  like  manner  to  deter  their  master;  but 
the  Sheykh  Bakir  held  to  his  purpose,  saying — 

"Well,  let  them  kill  me.     It  is  no  great  matter." 

"In  that  case,  no  more  words,  by  Allah !  I  go 
with  thee,"  cried  his  henchman  with  a  laugh.  "But 
how  to  get  away !  We  are  imprisoned." 

"Who  are  the  guards?" 

"Abdullah  Latif,  Ferid,  Asad  and  another  and  the 
lad  Selim. 

"Behave  as  if  they  were  not  in  existence.  Go, 
prepare  the  horses.  I  will  deal  with  them." 

Abdullah  then  went  out  and  talked  politely  with 
the  guards  a  moment  before  proceeding  to  the  sta- 
bles as  if  in  pursuance  of  his  nightly  duty.  Bakir 
put  on  his  riding-boots  and  went  out  also,  talking 
amiably  with  the  guards  until  Abdullah  called  to 
say  the  steeds  were  ready.  The  jangle  of  their  bits 
was  heard  out  in  the  darkness. 

"In  your  grace,  I  depart,"  said  Bakir,  rising. 
"The  night  is  cool  and  pleasant,  I  am  going  forth 
to  smell  the  air  on  horseback." 

"But  thou  art  imprisoned;  we  are  here  to  guard 
thee,  O  my  lord,"  exclaimed  the  chief  man  of  the 
sentries  in  a  deprecating  way. 

"By  Allah,  thou  must  not  go  forth,  it  is  forbid- 
den," cried  another. 

"What  words  are  these,  O  sons  of  dogs?"  ex- 
claimed Bakir  with  sudden  anger.  Therewith  he 
beat  the  nearest  of  them  about  the  head  and  shoul- 
ders with  his  riding-whip  till  all  howled  for  mercy. 


248  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

They  were  still  in  tears,  imploring  him  to  be  more 
reasonable,  when,  astride  of  his  bay  mare,  he  rode 
away  into  the  darkness.  They  had  pistols,  he  re- 
minded them  with  mocking  laugh. 

"The  lion,"  said  Abdullah  Shukri,  "even  though 
defenceless,  is  armed  with  all  the  fear  of  all  the 
other  lions  that  have  gone  before." 

"Would  to  Allah  that  all  creatures  could  be 
taught  as  easily.  We  have  a  hard  task  at  Aineyn," 
said  Bakir  thoughtfully. 

"Try  not  such  methods  there,  for  Allah's  mercy !" 
laughed  Abdullah.  They  could  not  see  each  oth- 
er's faces  in  the  darkness,  but  only  the  vague  mov- 
ing mass  of  horse  and  man.  The  mountain-side  be- 
fore them  showed  more  lights  than  usual.  A  very 
lively  murmur  came  from  it.  The  blacksmith's  forge 
was  noisy  as  by  day.  People  were  calling  one  to 
another,  and  innumerable  little  drums  were  being 
beaten.  There  was  to  be  little  sleep  that  night  for 
any  one  in  Deyr  Amun. 

"With  thy  permission,"  said  Abdullah,  "I  will  go 
and  warn  the  Sitt  Jemileh.  She  has  a  mind.  She 
will  take  measures  for  the  lady's  safety." 

"By  Allah,  well  considered.  I  had  quite  forgot- 
ten them.  Go,  with  my  blessing,"  said  the  Sheykh 
Bakir.  "I  will  ride  on  and  wait  for  thee  beside  the 
mill." 


XXX 

THAT  day,  as  it  happened,  Elsie  had  been  out  for 
a  long  ride  with  Mr.  Fenn.  On  their  return  the 
latter  had  repaired  to  his  own  tents  for  supper, 
but  afterwards  rejoined  her  on  the  terrace  under- 
neath the  pine-trees.  Jemileh  sat  at  no  great  dis- 
tance from  them,  with  Faris  and  the  other  servants 
of  the  house.  After  a  blazing  day  the  night  air  was 
delicious,  and  drew  everybody  out  of  doors.  Jemileh 
took  part  in  the  conversation  of  her  group  distract- 
edly, with  ears  intent  to  catch  each  word  that  passed 
between  the  English  lovers.  As  usual,  they  were  on 
religion  and  the  sad  state  of  the  country — subjects 
which  Elsie,  rendered  languid  by  a  long  day's  riding, 
approached  for  once  without  aggressive  ardour. 
But  the  small  khawajah  thought  it  necessary  to  ex- 
plain exactly  at  what  points  he  disagreed  with  her. 
And  Elsie  (naturally,  as  Jemileh  thought)  became 
annoyed  at  his  stupidity  in  treating  her  remarks  as 
of  importance  when  he  might  have  wooed  her. 

"May  Allah  cut  their  lives,  for  they  are  devoid 
of  sensibility!"  exclaimed  Jemileh  to  herself  as  she 
looked  round  upon  the  friendly  gloom  gold-threaded 
with  the  dance  of  fireflies,  and  up  at  the  great  throb- 
bing stars  among  the  pine-boughs.  "Is  this  a  time 
to  talk  about  the  world's  salvation?" 

249 


250  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

That  their  minds  should  have  command  at  such 
a  moment,  which  should  have  been  controlled  by 
heartbeats,  shocked  her  like  the  revelation  of  a  foul 
deformity.  She,  whose  scheming  and  deceits,  born 
of  warm  blood,  they  reprehended,  beheld  them  guilty 
of  a  worse  dishonesty,  being  false  to  nature.  Their 
argument  increased  in  bitterness  as  they  proceeded. 

"Well,"  said  Elsie,  "since  you  say  that  my  ideas 
are  hopeless,  what,  pray,  is  your  idea  of  helping 
these  unhappy  people?" 

"Supposing  that  I  thought  it  right  to  interfere 
with  them  at  all — supposing  I  could  be  quite  sure 
that  I  myself,  and  my  own  nation,  did  not  want  im- 
proving quite  as  much  as  they  do — 

"That's  nonsense,"  interrupted  Elsie.  "You 
know  quite  well  that  they  are  far  behind  us." 

"Behind,  but  not  below." 

"Below,  as  well." 

"I'm  not  so  sure.  At  least  I  cannot  see  that 
you  or  I  have  been  appointed  over  them.  .  .  .  Well, 
supposing  all  I've  said,  I  think  that  I  should  settle 
down  among  them  and  without  any  airs  of  superi- 
ority mix  with  them  and  help  in  little  ways.  A  lot 
could  be  done  in  the  direction  of  village  government. 
The  authority  exists,  but  the  people  don't  know  how 
to  use  it.  They  could  do  heaps  of  things  them- 
selves for  the  improvement  of  the  country,  which 
they  now  wait  for  the  government  to  do  for  them, 
and  wait  for  ever!  No  government  on  earth  could 
do  all  that  is  expected  of  the  Turkish  Government 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  251 

without  intelligent  collaboration  of  the  people. 
Then  in  the  way  of  justice:  a  great  deal  can  be  done 
by  settling  small  disputes  at  home  without  referring 
to  the  courts,  which  are  always  costly,  often  distant 
and  in  most  cases  corrupt.  By  working  in  those 
two  directions,  not  to  mention  others,  an  English 
man  or  woman  might  do  good." 

"But  you  are  leaving  out  the  most  important 
thing  of  all — I  mean  religion,"  put  in  Elsie  hotly. 
"They  can  never  make  real  progress  while  they  have 
a  false  religion." 

The  small  khawajah  was  upon  the  point  of  say- 
ing something,  but  he  checked  himself — Jemileh 
praised  God  for  it — and  uttered  something  else  in 
tones  of  studied  moderation.  He  observed — 

"I  don't  think  that  you  ought  to  aim  at  making 
proselytes.  It  only  makes  more  bitterness  between 
the  two  religions.  The  best  thing  that  we  Euro- 
peans have  evolved  in  the  course  of  centuries  is  the 
principle  of  religious  toleration.  El  Islam,  as  a  re- 
ligion, is  tolerant.  One  could  do  good  by  remind- 
ing Muslims  of  the  fact." 

"How  can  you  say  such  things !" 

"It  is  the  simple  truth.  I  think  you  ought  to 
study  the  Mahometan  religion  and  its  history  a  lit- 
tle more  seriously  than  you  appear  to  have  done  be- 
fore presuming  to  attack  it.  The  best  thing  for  a 
missionary  to  do  out  here  is  to  aim  not  at  conver- 
sion, but  at  inspiring  toleration.  And  the  best  mis- 


252  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

sionary  of  my  acquaintance  thinks  and  says  so.  The 
converting  business  leads  to  awful  things." 

"I  don't  know  what  you  mean,  and  I  don't  be- 
lieve that  you  yourself  know,"  answered  Elsie,  with 
contempt  belied  by  vehemence.  "If  you  had  ever 
done  any  missionary  work  yourself,  you  would  speak 
otherwise.  These  people  like  to  hear  about  relig- 
ion. From  my  own  experience  I  can  say,  they  wel- 
come missionaries.  I  am  sure  that  my  small  efforts, 
at  Ai'neyn  have  not  led  to  'awful  things'  as  you  ex- 
press it,  nor  to  any  feelings  of  intolerance." 

"On  the  contrary,  I  should  say  that  they  have 
made  more  bitter  feeling  between  Ai'neyn  and  Deyr 
Amun  than  there  has  ever  been  before.  Do  you 
know  that  the  Christians  here  taunt  everybody  from 
Ai'neyn  with  having  to  submit  to  what  they  call  your 
'insults'?  They  regard  it  as  a  triumph  for  their 
Christianity,  which  is  not  by  any  means  a  Christlike 
thing,  I  can  assure  you !  I  should  not  be  surprised 
if  we  heard  more  of  it!" 

"The  services  at  Ai'neyn  are  given  up,  so  you 
will  not  hear  more  of  it.  They  were  quite  pleasant 
while  they  lasted;  there  was  never  the  least  trouble 
or  disturbance.  I  really  don't  believe  a  half  you 
say.  At  any  rate  you  will  admit  that  if  the  native 
Christians  are  intolerant,  it  is  not  my  fault  or  that 
of  any  missionary." 

Jemileh  heard  no  more  of  their  discussion,  her 
attention  being  called  away  by  the  arrival  of  Ab- 
dullah Shukri.  Having  left  his  horse  below  the  ter- 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  353 

race,  he  approached  the  group  of  servants  in  the 
darkness,  asking  in  a  whisper — "Where  is  the  Sitt 
Jemileh?" 

"Here!    Who  is  it?" 

"It  is  I,  Abdullah.  I  come  to  bring  thee  tidings 
of  a  great  misfortune.  This  day  there  was  a  fight 
of  children  in  the  wady,  a  Muslim  boy  was  killed 
most  barbarously  by  our  own  young  devils,  may  the 
Lord  repay  them!  It  is  feared  that  vengeance  will 
be  taken.  My  lord  is  doing  all  that  man  can  do  to 
lessen  danger;  but  it  were  well  to  keep  thy  mistress 
in  the  house  to-morrow." 

"Have  no  fear;  to-morrow  is  the  first  day  of  the 
week.  She  never  rides  abroad  upon  that  day. — 
Whither  away,  O  Paris?"  asked  Jemileh,  seeing  her 
brother  stepping  off  towards  the  stable. 

"In  there,  to  clean  my  gun,"  was  the  rejoinder. 

"Warn  the  lady,  notwithstanding,"  said  Abdul- 
lah, "or  better,  tell  the  small  kawajah.  He  has 
sense." 

"Sense?"  sneered  Jemileh.  "By  the  Cross,  not  he! 
He  has  been  sitting  in  the  dark  with  her  for  two 
whole  hours  and  talking — politics." 

"Merciful  Allah !"  laughed  Abdullah.  "A  strange 
weakness ! — which  thou  and  I  would  never  share,  O 
queen  of  ardours !" 

"Be  silent,  O  devoid  of  modesty!"  exclaimed  Je- 
mileh. 

She  then  approached  the  lovers  and  told  Fenn 
in  Arabic:  "There  is  alarming  news.  Aineyn  at- 


254  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

tacked  some  children  of  our  village.  A  Muslim  boy 
was  killed  by  accident." 

"What  is  it?"  questioned  Elsie. 

"Excuse  me  half  a  minute,  I  will  tell  you  pres- 
ently." The  small  khawajah  went  himself  to  find 
Abdullah  Shukri.  Having  learnt  from  him  the  truth 
of  the  occurrence,  he  returned  to  Elsie  and  informed 
her  of  it.  The  event  came  in  so  aptly  to  support 
his  recent  arguments  that  she  at  first  suspected  him 
of  having  made  it  up. 

"I  don't  believe  a  word  of  it,"  she  told  him.  "I'm 
used  to  these  alarms.  Surely  you,  who  claim  to 
knpw  these  people  thoroughly,  don't  credit  all  they 
tell  you?" 

"It  all  depends  upon  the  teller  and  the  tone,"  was 
the  reply.  "Abdullah  Shukri  and  his  master  I 
should  always  trust,  as  I  should  also  your  man 
Faris,  to  the  best  of  his  intelligence,  which  is  not 
great."  With  that  he  took  his  leave,  going  to  help 
the  villagers  in  preparation  for  defence. 

Word  had  gone  forth  that  every  man  in  Dejr 
Amun  who  owned  a  gun  must  take  it  to  the  church 
to  be  inspected.  The  store  of  ammunition  was  ex- 
amined; men  and  women  set  to  work  at  making  car- 
tridges ;  great  heaps  of  stone  were  raised  in  the  main 
approaches  to  the  village;  and  all  night  long  the 
blacksmith's  forge  was  glowing  while  the  clang  of 
hammered  iron  came  from  thence. 


XXXI 

IN  the  village  of  Aineyn,  meanwhile,  there  was 
the  like  excitement  with  less  agitation  and  no  noise. 
The  prevailing  sentiment  was  one  of  vast  relief  in 
the  perception  that  the  limit  of  endurance  had  at 
last  been  reached. 

The  Christians  had  grown  rich  while  they  (the 
Muslims)  remained  poor.  The  Christians  were  ex- 
empt from  military  service.  From  birth  to  death 
they  governed  their  own  lives  and  were  at  liberty 
to  ply  their  trades  or  till  their  lands  continuously; 
whereas  the  Muslim  village  was  perpetually  being 
robbed  of  able-bodied  men.  The  Muslims  had  borne 
all  the  burden  of  the  service  of  the  State  for  the 
benefit  of  the  said  Christians,  whom  El  Islam  of  old 
agreed  to  tolerate  and  to  protect  in  consideration 
of  a  yearly  tribute  paid  by  them.  That  had  always 
been  the  way  of  El  Islam.  The  way  of  Christen- 
dom of  old  had  been  extermination.  The  Muslim 
as  a  conqueror  had  dealt  more  mercifully  with  the 
Christians  of  the  conquered  country  than  any  Chris- 
tian Power  of  those  days  would  have  dealt,  counting 
them  heretics.  But  were  the  Christians  grateful? 
Ask  your  eyes !  No  sooner  did  the  Europeans  find 
a  way  into  the  land,  seeking  the  destruction  of  the 

255 


256  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

Muslims  stealthily,  than  the  Christian  populations 
flocked  around  them,  eating  all  their  dirt  in  order 
to  secure  protection  from  a  foreign  power,  which 
should  enable  them  to  thrive  at  the  expense  of  the 
poor  Muslims. 

On  the  one  hand  they  whined  lies  to  their  pro- 
tectors, filling  their  minds  with  prejudices  against 
El  Islam;  on  the  other,  they  grew  arrogant  to- 
wards their  Muslim  neighbours.  Missionaries  came 
and  dwelt  among  them  in  their  villages,  which  thus 
became  mere  outposts  of  the  country's  foes.  They 
were  educated  free  of  charge ;  and  placed  in  good 
positions.  The  least  injustice  to  a  Christian  so 
enraged  the  Powers  of  Europe  that  all  the  masters 
of  oppression  in  the  land  were  driven  to  confine  their 
practice  to  the  poor  Mahometans,  who,  being  patri- 
otic, raised  no  cry.  The  Sultan  (God  preserve 
him!)  was  too  greatly  pestered  by  the  Powers  of 
Europe,  each  clamouring  on  behalf  of  its  own  Chris- 
tian favourites,  to  give  attention  to  his  loyal  Muslim 
subjects.  And  so  they  had  endured  in  silence.  It 
needed  more  than  that  to  make  them  break  the 
peace. 

To  the  people  of  Ai'neyn  the  ravings  of  the  Eng- 
lishwoman had  seemed  no  more  than  a  part  of  the 
general  injustice  to  which  they  had  become  accus- 
tomed, so  long  as  they  considered  them  the  outcome 
of  her  private  madness.  But  when  they  came  to 
fancy  that  Deyr  Amun  had  egged  her  on  to  trouble 
them,  the  whole  affair  assumed  another  aspect.  The 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  257 

faith  of  El  Islam  had  been  insulted  publicly  in  the 
hearing  of  the  lady's  servants,  native  Christians. 
The  boy,  it  was  remembered,  had  been  seen  to  grin. 
He  and  the  girl,  his  sister,  had  doubtless  reported 
the  proceedings  to  the  other  Nazarenes,  who  tri- 
umphed in  the  shame  of  El  Islam. 

Yet  still  the  Muslims  held  their  hands  and  waited, 
till  that  day,  when  frightened  urchins  brought  the 
tidings  that  the  son  of  Hafiz  esh-Shikari  had  been 
killed  by  Christian  children  in  the  wady.  A  search 
party  went  out  at  once,  but  could  descry  no 
traces  of  the  body,  not  so  much  as  a  spot  of  blood 
upon  the  stones. 

"They  have  carried  him  to  their  accursed  church, 
to  drink  his  blood  and  mutilate  him  at  their  leisure," 
said  the  father  of  the  murdered  boy,  as  one  who 
states  a  fact  of  which  no  doubt  remains.  "In  sh' Al- 
lah he  was  dead  before  they  took  him  up.  Mustafa 
saw  them  killing  him  with  stones." 

The  headman  still  adjured  the  people  to  be  calm. 
In  pursuance  of  his  duty  he  dispatched  two  mes- 
sengers, one  to  the  Wali  of  the  province,  the  other 
to  the  Sheykh  Bakir,  but  both  were  stopped  before 
they  had  gone  fifty  yards  and  brought  back  to  him 
with  one  word:  "Forbidden."  The  sheykh  smiled, 
shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  gave  praise  to  Allah. 
Though  he  still  spoke  of  peace,  the  friends  of  war 
met  in  his  house  that  evening,  and  he  it  was  who 
gave  the  most  acclaimed  advice — 


258  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

"Attack  them  from  above,  that  will  surprise 
them." 

"Then  the  army  must  set  out  betimes,"  remarked 
an  elder.  "It  will  take  four  hours  at  least  to  cross 
the  wady  at  its  head  and  climb  the  mountain.  An- 
other hour  for  coming  down.  Five  hours  at  least 
without  allowing  rests." 

"It  can  be  done  in  less,"  a  voice  asserted. 

"To-morrow  is  the  First  Day.  They  will  go  to 
church.  Wait  till  they  are  all  inside.  Set  five  men 
at  the  door  and  burn  the  village." 

"No,  by  Allah,  they  expect  us,  after  what  is  done. 
They  will  not  go  to  church  to-morrow  morning. 
Strike  at  dawn!" 

The  father  of  the  murdered  boy  made  no  sug- 
gestion. He  sat  upon  the  ground  with  eyes  down- 
cast, contentedly  employed  in  polishing  a  hunting- 
knife,  which  was  the  only  weapon  he  possessed,  for 
he  was  very  poor.  From  time  to  time  he  called  upon 
the  name  of  Allah. 

"Hush!  People  come!"  exclaimed  the  watcher  at 
the  door. 

"From  which  direction?"  asked  the  sheykh. 

"From  Deyr  Amun." 

The  whole  assembly  sprang  up  in  a  trice  and 
seized  their  weapons. 

"Two  riders  only!"  came  from  the  look-out  when 
weapons  were  laid  down  again.  "It  appears  to  be 
the  Sheykh  Bakir— he  and  Abdullah  Shukri.  Shall 
I  shoot,  O  sheykh?" 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  259 

"By  thy  life,  no,  for  they  are  honest  men." 
"Christians  none  the  less.     Better  say  shoot." 
"No,  let  them  enter,  only  tell  them  nothing!" 
The  company  sat  down  once  more.     The  counte- 
nances of  its  members  lost  their  fierceness,  becom- 
ing those  of  men  ill-used,  too  mild  to  think  on  ven- 
geance.    Two  saucer  lamps  set  in  the  middle  of  the 
floor  gave  all  the  light  there  was,  in  the  large  room. 
The  faces  thus  illumined  looked  unreal;  they  seemed 
to  flicker  with  the  lamp-flames,  each  head-dress  tow- 
ering up  into  the  shadows.     All  rose  upon  the  en- 
trance of  the  Sheykh  Bakir  except  the  father  of 
the  murdered  boy,  who  sat  still,  staring  at  the  hunt- 
ing-knife upon  his  knee. 

The  visitor  had  come,  he  said,  to  offer  them  his 
life  as  hostage  that  there  should  be  justice. 

"Allahu  Akbar!"  sighed  the  headman  of  Aineyn. 
"Where  in  these  days  is  justice  found  for  true  be- 
lievers? No  man  should  make  his  life  a  hostage 
for  it,  so  take  back  thy  words !  Since  the  Franks 
throng  on  us,  justice  has  become  the  slave  of  all  the 
lies  of  all  the  Nazarenes,  who  wish  to  see  the  Franks 
destroy  our  country." 

"I  am  not  of  those  who  wish  to  see  a  foreign  gov- 
ernment, as  well  thou  knowest,"  said  Bakir  with 
warmth.  "I  am  a  son  of  the  Arabs,  and  have  never 
felt  the  least  desire  to  change  my  skin." 

"Nevertheless  your  Honour  is  a  Nazarene.  You 
naturally  side  with  your  own  people,"  said  a  young 
man  present. 


260  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

"Go  and  ask  them !"  answered  Bakir,  with  a  short 
laugh.  "By  Allah,  I  have  so  angered  my  own  people 
that  they  shut  me  in  my  house.  I  have  escaped  from 
prison,  to  come  hither" ;  and  he  proceeded  to  re- 
count the  whole  adventure,  drawing  chuckles  even 
from  that  grim  assembly. 

"Now  hear  me  to  an  end,"  he  then  continued. 
"You  see  now  clearly  that  I  am  no  partisan.  I  do 
not  love  the  interference  of  the  Franks,  but  I  can- 
not prevent  it.  If  you,  being  Muslims,  attack  Chris- 
tians, whether  right  or  wrong,  the  Franks  will  make 
an  outcry  and  increase  their  interference ;  whereas  if 
you  keep  quiet,  as  the  law  enjoins,  I  swear  by  Al- 
lah justice  shall  be  done  to  you.  That  is  my  last 
word.  In  your  grace  I  go." 

"How  should  we  be  suspected  of  a  desire  to  break 
the  law — we,  who  are  much  more  loyal  than  the  Naz- 
arene?"  inquired  an  elder  of  Aineyn,  with  great  de- 
mureness. 

"I  am  a  Muslim  and  resign  my  cause  to  God," 
moaned  the  father  of  the  murdered  boy.  "Let  them 
at  least  give  back  the  body  of  my  child  that  I  may 
bury  it." 

At  that  a  very  angry  murmur  filled  the  room. 

"Aye,  by  Allah !  give  us  back  the  body.  Let  us 
behold  the  body  of  the  martyr  child!" 

"The  body  will  be  given  to  you  when  it  is  dis- 
covered," said  Bakir.  "Doubtless  the  criminals 
have  hidden  it,  for  it  has  not  been  found.  I  did  not 
hear  the  news  till  near  the  sunset.  One  man  I 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  261 

caused  to  be  arrested  instantly.  The  others  I  will 
seize  to-morrow,  if  God  wills  it.  To-morrow  you 
shall  seek  the  body  with  me." 

"Dost  thou  think  the  other  Nazarenes  will  let 
us  see  it?  They  will  soak  the  corpse  in  oil  and  burn 
it  sooner,"  cried  a  voice. 

"Ottoman  troops  from  the  city  will  be  here  to- 
morrow to  see  justice  done.  What  say  you  to  my 
offer?"  asked  the  Sheykh  Bakir. 

"Neither  'yes'  nor  'no,'  but  'What  God  wills  comes 
to  pass,'  "  replied  the  headman  of  Aineyn.  "But 
this  I  say  for  thee,  O  Sheykh  Bakir.  There  is  not 
a  Nazarene  in  the  land  beside  thee  who  would  have 
come  into  our  midst  to-night  with  such  an  errand." 

"A  lie,  O  sheykh!  Another  sits  out  there  beside 
the  threshold." 

"He  does  not  count,  he  is  thy  shadow!"  laughed 
the  headman.  "Allah  knows,  his  soul  is  in  thy 
body." 

Amid  such  pleasantry  Bakir  departed.  He  had 
come  to  Aineyn  upon  a  reckless  impulse  born  of  his 
lazy  fear  of  too  much  work;  aware  that  there  was 
danger,  but  not  heeding  it.  He  would,  in  truth,  if 
questioned  in  his  heart,  have  owned  that  he  pre- 
ferred a  sudden  violent  death  to  the  great  weight 
of  public  business,  writing  letters  and  reports,  which 
would  devolve  on  him  as  the  result  of  any  serious 
outbreak.  He  had  done  no  harm  by  coming.  Allah 
alone  knew  if  he  had  done  any  good. 

Outside  the  village  he  reined  in  his  horse  and  lit 


262  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

a  cigarette,  increasing  the  darkness.  Abdullah 
Shukri  still  rode  on  towards  Deyr  Amun. 

"Not  that  way,  towards  the  city  rather!"  cried 
Bakir. 

"To  hear  is  to  obey,"  replied  Abdullah  Shukri, 
and  he  turned  his  horse  about. 

A  short  hour  after  they  had  left  the  headman's 
house,  the  main  body  of  the  Ai'neyn  men  set  out  on 
their  long  march.  The  remainder  were  to  start  an 
hour  before  the  dawn,  their  business  being  to  strike 
upwards  by  the  shortest  road.  Messengers  had  been 
dispatched  to  other  Muslim  villages,  inviting  help 
in  the  good  work ;  for  Deyr  Amun  was  to  be  treated 
as  men  treat  a  wasps'  nest. 


XXXII 

JEMILEH  was  awakened  before  sunrise  by  a  noise 
of  screaming,  monotonous  and  hopeless  as  the  yell 
of  wounded  beasts.  Leaping  out  of  bed,  she  ran  to 
the  window.  A  crowd  of  women,  half-undressed, 
with  children  clinging  to  their  skirts,  was  on  the 
terrace;  its  leaders  beat  upon  the  house  door;  all 
were  wailing.  Each  minute  added  to  the  throng  of 
fugitives.  The  deep  church  bell  was  ringing  with  a 
mad  insistence.  From  the  same  direction  came  the 
sound  of  firing. 

Jemileh  ran  down  in  her  nightdress  and  unbolted 
the  great  door.  Had  she  not  sprung  aside  imme- 
diately she  must  inevitably  have  been  knocked  down 
and  trampled  by  the  panic-stricken  women,  who 
then  rushed  in  headlong,  fighting  one  another,  drag- 
ging children,  some  of  whom  were  hurt  and  bleeding. 
In  a  minute  the  whole  lower  storey  of  the  house  was 
full  of  them.  They  flung  themselves  upon  the  chairs 
and  couches,  strewed  the  floor;  all  wild-eyed,  all 
dishevelled,  giving  utterance  to  piercing  howls. 

"El  Islam — O  Holy  Jesus! — El  Islam  is  on  us! 
Shut  the  door,  O  Sitt  Jemileh!  For  the  love  of 
Allah,  shut  the  door!"  the  cry  arose.  But  others 
still  came  running  up  the  terrace  with  chin  on  shoul- 
der, although  no  one  followed. 

263 


264  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

Having  shut  the  door  at  length  and  fastened  it, 
Jemileh  was  picking  her  way  through  the  mob, 
thinking  to  go  up  and  explain  the  meaning  of  the 
din  to  Elsie,  when  Elsie  herself  appeared  among 
them,  pale  and  scared.  Jemileh  saw  her  lips  open 
and  shut,  but  could  not  hear  what  she  was  saying 
for  the  women's  clamour.  She  led  her  to  a  place 
where  they  could  hear  each  other  speak,  and  then 
informed  her — 

"The  Muslims  massacre  the  beeble.  We'd  best 
but  ub  the  English  flag  to  make  us  safe." 

Elsie  had  not  a  word.  They  went  together  to  the 
box-room  and  unpacked  a  large  Union  Jack  which 
had  been  a  present  to  Miss  Wilding  from  the  British 
Consul  when  first  he  heard  that  she  was  going  to 
live  at  Deyr  Amun. 

"You'll  find  it  useful  in  this  country,  where  it's 
still  respected,  although  at  present  you  may  feel 
disposed  to  cut  yourself  adrift,"  had  been  his  speech 
on  the  occasion.  She  heard  him  now  as  in  a  dream, 
while  she  unfolded  it. 

Most  of  the  house  was  covered  by  a  sloping  roof 
of  tiles,  but  at  each  end  there  was  a  wing  with  a 
flat  roof  some  ten  foot  square,  accessible  by  a  lad- 
der and  trap-door.  On  one  of  these  flat  roofs  was 
set  a  flagstaff.  As  they  were  stringing  up  the  Union 
Jack,  Jemileh  crouching  in  her  fear  of  bullets,  the 
noise  of  shouts  and  firing  came  to  them  distinctly, 
together  with  the  rapid  clang  of  the  church  bell.  At 
length  their  eyes  grew  bold  enough  to  gaze  around, 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  265 

and  they  realized  that  the  battle  was  a  good  way  off, 
up  by  the  church. 

The  sun  had  touched  the  heights  beyond  the  wady, 
but  Deyr  Amun  still  lay  in  dewy  shadow.  A  cool 
breeze  was  astir,  shedding  abroad  the  fragrance  of 
the  orchards.  The  stems  and  boughs  of  olive-trees 
were  black,  their  leaves  a  whitish  mist;  the  fig- 
branches  smoke-grey  with  inky  leaves;  plums,  apri- 
cots and  mulberries  made  a  mass  of  green  in  which 
the  cube-shaped  houses  seemed  embedded  like  small 
rocks  in  seaweed.  Down  in  the  hollows  fluttered 
plumes  of  reeds.  Doves  were  cooing  plaintively,  as 
yet  but  half  awake.  The  scene  was  wonderfully 
peaceful  save  at  that  one  point  by  the  church,  where 
there  were  flashes  followed  by  sharp  detonations  and 
slow  puffs  of  smoke.  Up  there  a  fierce  fight  seemed 
to  be  in  progress,  for  the  noise  was  ceaseless. 

All  at  once  smoke  rose  from  a  point  further  down 
the  hill.  It  went  up  first  in  threads,  swayed  lightly 
by  the  breeze.  The  threads  became  a  column. 
Flames  were  seen.  Some  of  the  enemy,  eluding  the 
defenders,  had  set  a  house  on  fire.  To  deal  with  them 
men  were  detached  from  the  main  body  round  the 
church.  The  girls  could  see  them  streaming  down 
the  terraces,  like  ants.  Before  they  reached  the 
scene  of  the  conflagration  smoke  had  begun  to  rise 
in  two  more  places.  The  watchers  heard  the  angry 
shouts  when  this  was  seen. 

"I  wonder  where  they're  making  for,"  said  Elsie 


266  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

in  a  tone  of  placid  curiosity  which  angered  poor 
Jemileh  so  that  she  exclaimed — 

"They  make  for  you,  I  think.  They  burn  this 
house,  and  kill  the  beeble  in  it.  You  are  the  cause 
of  all  in  their  obinion." 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"I  mean  you  did  annoy  those  beeble,  telling  them 
their  religion  was  all  silliness.  They  did  not  mind 
from  you.  They  thought  you  did  not  know  what 
you  were  saying.  But  the  beeble  here  in  Deyr  Amun, 
they  laugh  like  anything  and  tease  the  Muslims  with 
it.  That's  what  makes  them  fight." 

"I  don't  believe  it  for  a  moment." 

"Well,  you'll  see.  They're  coming  here.  The  flag 
may  save  us  all,  I  bray  to  God." 

Just  then,  as  if  on  purpose  to  confirm  Jemileh's 
forecast,  shots  were  fired  much  nearer  to  them, 
though  still  upon  the  far  side  of  the  glen  which  lay 
between  their  eminence  and  the  bold  spur  on  which 
the  church  and  village  stood.  They  saw  white  smoke 
dispersing  through  the  trunks  of  olive  trees.  Je- 
mileh flung  herself  on  Elsie,  moaning — 

"Let  us  go  indoors !  My  brother  is  down  there, 
I  know.  Ah!  Ah!  I  feel  quite  sick.  Make  haste! 
Go  down!" 

But  Elsie  stayed,  exclaiming  in  excited  tones, 
"Oh,  look!  Here's  some  one  coming.  It  is  Mr. 
Fenn!"  and  in  a  flash  Jemileh  realized  that  the  in- 
human girl  thought  nothing  of  the  slaughter  in  the 
village,  or  the  wrong  to  Christendom,  compared  with 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  267 

the  appearance  of  the  lover  she  had  used  so  badly. 
Casting  an  angry  glance  in  the  direction  indicated, 
she  beheld  the  white-clad  Englishman,  armed  with 
nothing  more  effective  than  a  walking-stick,  advanc- 
ing up  the  path  with  easy  stride,  showing  the  same 
indifference  which  Elsie  felt  for  the  disaster  threat- 
ening poor  Christian  people. 

Their  wicked  coldness  made  Jemileh  cry.  "No- 
body cares  for  the  boor  beeble,"  she  exclaimed  with 
sobs.  "They  will  all  be  killed  and  efry  one  look 
on  and  smile.  Oh,  for  the  luf  of  God,  Miss  Elsie, 
do  come  down.  We  shall  be  shot  ub  here." 

"He's  coming  here !  .  .  .  I  think  we  ought  to 
hold  our  morning  service  earlier  to-day.  It  may 
bring  comfort  to  those  poor  scared  things  indoors." 

"Holy  Mother  of  God!"  groaned  poor  Jemileh 
in  her  heart.  "These  English  will  hold  services  in 
Hell." 

They  went  downstairs  at  length,  just  as  the  sun 
appeared  above  the  mountain-top,  in  time  to  wel- 
come Mr.  Fenn,  who  brought  them  tidings  of  the 
fight.  He  had  been  awakened  by  the  noise  of  it  so 
near  his  tent  and,  seeing  what  was  happening,  had 
sallied  forth  to  have  a  look  before  he  dressed  him- 
self. As  soon  as  he  was  dressed  he  had  come  down 
to  them.  His  servant  was  to  follow  by  another  way, 
bringing  two  guns  and  thirty  rounds  of  ammunition 
— all  he  had. 

"I  don't  suppose  you  have  a  gun  upon  the  prem- 
ises," he  said  to  Elsie. 


268  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

"Faris  and  his  father  both  have  guns,  I  think," 
she  answered  vaguely. 

"And  where  are  Faris  and  his  father  at  this  mo- 
ment? Tell  me  that!  Nowhere  within  call,  I'm 
prepared  to  bet.  Our  friend  Bakir,  it  seems,  es- 
caped last  night.  They  thought  they  had  impris- 
oned him.  He  will  have  warned  the  government,  so 
there  is  a  chance  of  troops  arriving  any  minute." 

"Oh,  my  goodness !"  shrieked  Jemileh.  "The 
Turks  will  come,  you  say?  Then  efrybody  in  the 
fillage  will  be  massacred." 

"Don't  be  a  fool,"  rejoined  the  small  khawajah 
angrily.  He  added  in  his  former  tone:  "It's  a  fair 
fight,  so  far,  though  I'm  glad  that  we've  got  all  the 
women  and  children  safely  here  or  in  the  church. 
And  Deyr  Amun  has  still  the  best  of  it  in  my  opin- 
ion. Though  very  hotly  attacked,  they  have  not 
been  dislodged  from  any  of  the  points  they  held  in 
force — the  church,  for  instance,  and  the  sheykh's 
house  and  the  spring.  Some  of  the  enemy  got  round 
them,  but  are  now  below  and  manifestly  at  a  dis- 
advantage if  they  wish  to  climb  again,  as  climb  they 
must.  Numbers  must  tell  in  the  end,  if  they 
avoid  a  panic,  and  from  what  I  saw  our  people  much 
outnumber  the  attacking  parties.  My  one  fear  is 
that  they  will  make  for  us  in  force.  I  don't  think 
they  would  venture  in  with  the  flag  flying,  though 
Heaven  knows  they  might,  they're  pretty  mad.  But 
they'd  pepper  us  with  bullets  through  the  windows. 
Now  get  out  all  the  mattresses,  pillows,  blankets  and 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  269 

cushions  that  you've  got.  Show  me  where  you  keep 
them  and  I'll  help.  We've  got  to  make  these  win- 
dows bullet-proof  as  near  as  possible.  I  wish  those 
women  would  stop  howling  .  .  .  Do  what  I  tell  you 
and  look  sharp  about  it.  We  may  not  have  much 
time." 

Elsie  showed  great  surprise  at  this  peremptory 
tone.  She  raised  her  eyebrows  and  pursed  up  her 
mouth.  Had  he  so  much  as  looked  at  her  just  then 
she  would  have  quarrelled,  thought  Jemileh,  who 
knew  all  the  symptoms ;  but,  as  it  happened,  he  paid 
no  attention  to  her,  having  begun  to  try  and  pacify 
the  wretched  fugitives.  So  after  a  minute's  hesi- 
tation Elsie  went  off  with  Jemileh  to  perform  his 
bidding.  While  he  was  arranging  the  mattresses 
and  cushions,  which  they  brought  to  him,  upon  the 
window-sills,  he  said — 

"And  now,  if  you've  got  nothing  else  to  do,  cut 
up  a  few  sheets  into  lengths  for  bandaging.  We're 
sure  to  need  them  presently.  And  make  these  women 
help,  instead  of  yelling." 

Elsie  started  and  her  cheeks  went  red  as  fire,  but 
again  after  a  second's  hesitation  she  did  as  she  was 
told. 

About  an  hour  later,  having  arranged  a  plan  of 
defence  with  his  servant  (a  Muslim  from  another 
district)  who  had  brought  the  guns,  Fenn  burst  into 
the  room  where  Elsie  and  Jemileh,  with  a  dozen 
of  the  village  women,  were  sitting  on  the  floor  pre- 


270  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

paring  bandages,  and  asked:  "Have  you  a  practi- 
cable roof?  I  want  to  take  a  look  at  the  position." 
By  then  the  noise  of  firing  had  drawn  very  near. 

Elsie  sprang  up  obediently,  shaking  out  shreds 
of  linen  from  her  lap,  and  led  him  up  on  to  the  ter- 
race where  the  flag  was  flying.  Jemileh  and  the  vil- 
lage women  followed,  to  be  near  those  calm  ones. 
The  day  was  already  hot.  When  their  eyes  had  be- 
come accustomed  to  the  sun-glare,  Elsie  and  Jemi- 
leh saw  the  battle  much  more  widely  scattered  than 
it  had  been  when  they  last  surveyed  it.  There  was 
still  some  desultory  firing  round  the  church,  but  the 
main  struggle  had  been  carried  further  downward 
and  all  the  upper  portion  of  the  village  seemed  on 
fire.  About  a  score  of  Muslims  were  across  the  glen 
and  had  taken  cover  among  the  olive-trees  upon  a 
terrace  not  a  hundred  yards  below  the  Englishwom- 
an's house.  Some  men  of  Deyr  Amun  had  got  above 
them,  and  running  with  heads  ducked  from  point  to 
point,  were  holding  them  for  the  time  being,  the 
Muslims  being  at  a  disadvantage  until  reinforced. 
A  crash  of  boulders  loosed  from  the  walls  told  that 
the  Christians  were  not  wasting  powder  where  a 
stone  might  serve. 

Fenn  turned  to  Elsie  with  the  question — 

"Have  you  got  such  a  thing  as  a  pair  of  field- 
glasses  ?" 

Jemileh,  at  the  bidding  of  her  mistress,  fetched 
the  instrument  required.  The  small  khawajah, 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  271 

after  peering  through  it  for  a  minute,  gave  a  long, 

low  whistle. 

"What  is  it?"  questioned  Elsie. 
"Things  look  bad  for  Deyr  Amun." 
Jemileh  fell  upon  her  knees  in  silent  prayer. 


XXXIII 

THE  Deyr  Amun  men  had  been  driven  back  from 
two  of  their  positions,  and  the  need  to  guard  the 
church,  where  some  of  the  women  and  children  had 
sought  refuge,  in  strength,  prevented  reinforcement 
of  the  beaten  bands.  These  could  be  seen  pouring 
down  the  hillside  to  the  glen,  turning  to  fire  at  in- 
tervals. They  were  evidently  making  for  Miss  Wild- 
ing's house,  whose  situation  was  convenient  for  de- 
fence. But  near  the  bottom  they  were  intercepted 
by  a  band  of  Muslims  running  in  the  hollow.  In  a 
few  minutes  the  victorious  Ai'neynis  would  be  rushing 
up  to  help  their  comrades  storm  the  house,  or  so 
it  seemed  to  Fenn  as  he  looked  down  upon  the  strug- 
gle. The  village  women  and  Jemileh  sobbed  and 
prayed,  some  of  them  on  their  knees,  some  prostrate 
on  the  roof.  One  of  them  kissed  the  Union  Jack, 
which  hung  in  heavy  folds  along  the  staff,  address- 
ing prayers  to  it  as  to  an  icon.  Elsie  stood  beside 
the  small  khawajah,  pale  but  calm. 

The  latter  suddenly  exclaimed:  "Thank  God!" 
and  handed  her  the  glasses.  On  a  curve  of  the 
broad  mule-track  round  a  hill  of  olives,  row  upon 
row  of  horsemen  could  be  seen  advancing  at  the  gal- 
lop. The  sunlight  flashed  on  their  accoutrements. 

272 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  273 

"Thank  God!"  exclaimed  Miss  Wilding  in  her 
turn.  "It  is  the  Turkish  troops." 

At  those  words  Jemileh  gave  a  howl  of  terror. 
"Then  we  are  finished,"  she  exclaimed  in  Arabic. 
"O  Allah,  pity!  In  mercy,  O  khawajah,  slay  us 
now!"  The  fugitives  began  again  to  scream  like 
wild  beasts. 

The  small  khawajah  glanced  at  them  and 
shrugged  contempt.  He  directed  Elsie's  gaze  up  to 
the  church,  where  other  Turkish  soldiers — infantry 
— could  now  be  seen.  The  noise  of  fighting  ceased 
in  that  direction.  The  cavalry,  which  for  a  time 
had  vanished  in  an  undulation  of  the  mountain-side, 
appeared  again,  this  time  upon  the  path  which  led 
from  the  main  road  to  Elsie's  house.  At  its  ap- 
proach the  Muslims  in  the  glen  retreated  hastily, 
the  Christians  struggled  up  the  slope  to  help  their 
comrades  fighting  on  the  terraces. 

"They  let  the  Muslimin  escape,  of  course!"  ex- 
claimed Jemileh  bitterly. 

"I  think  the  danger's  over,"  said  the  small  khaw- 
ajah, turning  to  Elsie  with  a  smile  of  great  relief. 
Firing  had  ceased  on  all  the  further  slopes,  and 
Turkish  soldiers  could  be  seen  at  work  upon  the 
fires. 

Jemileh  wrung  her  hands,  exclaiming — 

"They'll  rob  the  houses,  nothing  will  be  left!" 

"There's  nothing  left  to  rob,"  said  Fenn  impa- 
tiently. "Those  houses  have  been  burning  for  two 
hours.  And  these  are  not  the  kind  of  soldiers  who 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

do  mischief.  These  fellows  coming  here  are  all 
picked  men — the  Wali's  own  Circassians."  Sud- 
denly he  cried  out,  "Look!"  and  added  with  con- 
viction, "No  one  will  dare  to  loot  a  stick  to-day." 

Behind  the  troop  of  cavalry,  at  the  distance  nec- 
essary to  avoid  their  dust,  came  a  white-bearded 
man  on  horseback,  clad  in  black  frock  coat  and 
scarlet  fez,  his  trousers,  accurately  creased,  held 
down  by  straps.  He  carried  in  one  hand  a  sunshade, 
and  with  the  other  easily  controlled  the  antics  of 
a  coal-black  charger.  He  was  attended  by  a  gor- 
geous aide-de-camp  and  by  the  Sheykh  Bakir,  who 
rode  a  horse's  length  behind  him  upon  either  hand. 
It  was  the  Governor. 

The  soldiers  halted  in  the  glen  till  he  rode  up. 
There  was  a  moment's  council.  Half  the  men  dis- 
mounted and  unslung  their  carbines,  moving  along 
a  terrace  towards  the  fight,  which  still  continued 
just  below  the  Englishwoman's  house.  The  rest  with 
all  the  horses  rode  on  to  the  house  itself.  The  Wall, 
parasol  and  all,  went  with  the  former  party,  merely 
putting  down  his  sunshade,  which  might  easily  have 
got  entangled  in  the  branches  of  the  trees.  The  sol- 
diers fired  one  volley  in  the  air.  The  Wali's  horse 
plunged  wildly  for  a  moment  and  then  he  rode  it 
coolly  in  between  the  combatants,  the  Sheykh  Bakir 
and  the  gay  aide-de-camp  supporting  him. 

A  Christian  fired  a  shot,  perhaps  by  accident. 
The  old  man  took  no  notice.  He  appeared  to  be  re- 
buking the  delinquents  as  a  father  might.  His  ges- 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  275 

tures  spoke  benevolence.  Two  men  of  either  fac- 
tion were  arrested  and  disarmed.  The  fight  was 
over. 

Five  minutes  later  Hasan  Pasha  rode  up  to  the 
house.  Elsie  herself  went  out  to  speak  to  him.  She 
begged  him  to  come  in  and  take  refreshment.  But 
he  answered — 

"No,  I  must  not  stay  a  minute,  having  much  to 
do.  I  do  but  come  to  seek  assurance  of  your  health, 
and  to  express  my  hope  that  you  have  not  been 
much  alarmed  by  these  events.  My  daughter  will 
be  very  anxious  upon  your  account.  In  all  her  let- 
ters she  seeks  news  of  you.  I  also  wish  to  ask  you, 
as  a  favour,  to  allow  the  men  who  have  been  badly 
wounded  to  be  brought  to  you.  You  are  a  charita- 
ble lady,  you  will  not  deny  them.  And  no  one  else 
in  the  whole  village,  I  am  sure,  knows  how  to  treat 
them." 

All  at  once  as  he  was  speaking  he  caught  sight 
of  the  refugee  women  crowding  the  passage  behind 
Elsie  for  a  glimpse  of  him,  with  hateful  eyes. 

"Ha!"  he  exclaimed,  "so  you  have  given  shelter 
to  the  women  and  the  children.  You  are  good.  But 
kindly  send  them  to  their  homes,  now  all  is  over. 
I  cannot  send  a  wounded  Mussulman  to  you  while 
they  remain.  It  would  be  murder." 

And  he  rode  away. 

The  Sheykh  Bakir,  who  stayed  behind  a  minute, 
said:  "He's  right,  by  Jingo!  The  old  boy  knows 
what  he's  about.  Send  them  away  .  .  .  I'm  fery 


276  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

glad  to  see  you  well,  my  dear.  I  feared  tremendous 
that  we  might  not  be  in  time.  Now  I  must  go  and 
helb  clean  ub  the  mess." 

But  when  Elsie  told  those  women  to  return  to 
their  own  houses  they  fell  into  a  panic,  shrieking, 
yelling  and  clutching  at  her  dress  with  eager  hands 
like  claws.  Not  while  the  soldiers  were  there !  The 
soldiers  would  first  ravish  and  then  kill  them !  The 
wicked  Pasha  had  no  less  than  that  in  mind  when 
he  suggested  their  ejection  from  the  house.  He 
was  a  devil,  so  were  all  the  Muslims. 

Fenn  it  was  at  length  who  solved  the  difficulty 
by  a  compromise,  which  was  that  they  should  leave 
the  house  itself,  but  remain  close  by  upon  the  ter- 
race till  the  soldiers  went  away.  The  rooms  had  not 
been  altogether  cleared  of  them  before  the  first  in- 
stalment of  the  wounded  was  brought  in  by  soldiers. 
The  Pasha  sent  a  note  to  the  effect  that  the  casual- 
ties were  greater  than  he  had  expected,  and,  since 
he  could  not  trust  the  Muslim  wounded  in  any  na- 
tive house  at  Deyr  Amun,  he  was  sending  them  all 
to  Miss  Wilding,  confiding  in  her  charity  at  least 
to  let  them  die  in  peace. 

The  only  Christians  who  were  brought  into  the 
house  were  those  who  had  been  wounded  in  the  skir- 
mish close  at  hand.  Among  these  was  Faris.  When 
Jemileh  saw  her  brother  dead  to  all  appearance,  with 
blood  upon  his  face,  she  became  of  no  more  use 
for  any  kind  of  service;  she  could  only  sit  upon 
the  ground  beside  his  couch,  and  weep  and  pray  and 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  277 

curse  the  wicked  Muslims.  Bedding  was  comman- 
deered from  all  the  village  and  brought  in  by  the 
smiling,  indefatigable  Turkish  soldiers.  About  mid- 
day, to  Elsie's  great  relief,  Dr.  Wilson  came  with 
his  assistant  and  two  proper  nurses ;  also  the  Khaw- 
ajah  Yusuf  in  high  perspiration,  who  explained  his 
presence  at  great  length  to  Fenn  and  Elsie  while 
the  doctor  worked.  Men's  hearts  were  opened  in  an 
hour  of  such  disaster,  opened  to  receive  "the  Gos- 
bel  light,"  "the  liffin'  water."  He  hoped  to  bring 
comfort  to  "boor  sinful  souls"  and  seemed  to  take  a 
tranquil  pleasure  in  the  horrid  scene,  as  illustrating 
the  old  adage,  "In  the  midst  of  life  we  are  in  death" 
— words  which  he  kept  repeating  with  immense  com- 
placency. 

The  coming  of  the  doctor  was  soon  widely  known, 
and  people  came  to  summon  him  in  all  directions. 
About  one  o'clock  Hasan  Pasha  rode  up  with  his 
aide-de-camp  and  asked  to  speak  with  him  alone  a 
minute.  The  interview  took  place  upstairs  in  Elsie's 
sitting-room.  Then  the  Pasha  left  the  house, 
mounted  his  horse  with  the  assistance  of  his  aide-de- 
camp and  rode  away. 

"He's  had  a  bullet  through  his  arm;  the  bone 
is  splintered,"  the  doctor  said  to  Fenn  and  Elsie, 
who  were  talking  in  the  doorway.  "It  must  be  ag- 
ony, but  he  won't  let  me  put  it  up  for  him,  because 
he  doesn't  wish  it  to  be  known  that  he  is  hurt.  He 
thinks  that  it  would  cause  fresh  trouble,  and  he  may 
be  right.  He's  going  to  hold  a  sort  of  session  of 


278  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

inquiry  now,  and  wants  you,  Fenn,  to  join  him 
later  on.  Bakir  will  fetch  you.  I've  done  what  I 
can  to  ease  the  pain  for  him,  but  I  don't  know  what 
state  I  shall  find  that  arm  in  by  this  evening." 

"He  is  brave!"  said  Elsie. 

"A  real  old  lion,  as  the  natives  call  him,"  mur- 
mured Fenn. 

"About  as  wicked  as  they  make  'em,  if  report 
speaks  true.  -  But  one  can't  help  respecting  him," 
subjoined  the  doctor. 

Jemileh,  who  had  come  to  ask  if  something  more 
could  not  be  done  for  Faris,  her  one  care,  happened 
to  overhear  this  conversation  and  gave  praise  to 
God.  This  Muslim  who  bore  rule  over  the  Chris- 
tians, who  gave  himself  as  grand  airs  as  a  Frank, 
who  dared  to  sit  in  judgment  upon  Christians  and 
speak  to  them  as  people  speak  to  dogs,  was  wounded 
— please  God  by  a  Christian! — and  in  pain.  Her 
chance  admission  to  the  secret  seemed  a  heavenly 
favour. 

"Two,"  was  the  first  word  Faris  uttered  in  his 
sister's  hearing.  "I  know  that  I  shot  two  at  least 
of  them  before  I  fell.  Then,  as  I  lay  upon  the 
ground,  I  saw  the  soldiers  coming  just  when  we  were 
reinforced  and  on  the  point  of  winning.  I  knew 
that  they  would  rob  us  of  the  victory.  I  saw  that 
father  of  iniquity,  the  chief  oppressor,  ride  up  as 
calm  as  cruelty.  My  gun  was  loaded.  Lying  on 
the  ground,  I  aimed  at  him  and  fired,  but  missed 
him.  Allah  knows  my  grief!" 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  279 

"Grieve  not !  Thou  didst  not  miss  him,  O  my 
dear,"  Jemileh  whispered  as  she  kissed  the  sufferer's 
brow.  "Thy  bullet  broke  his  arm,  the  praise  to  Al- 
lah !  I  heard  the  doctor  say  so  even  now Now, 

for  the  love  of  Allah,  speak  no  more,  but  rest." 


XXXIV 

THE  house  of  the  sheykh  of  the  village  had  es- 
caped destruction,  though  some  of  the  adjacent 
buildings  were  but  blackened  ruins,  over  which  the 
sunlit  leaves  of  mulberry  and  pomegranate  trees  tri- 
umphed like  garlands  placed  upon  a  grinning  skull. 
The  level  space  before  it  was  as  busy  as  a  city  square 
when  Fenn,  conducted  by  the  Sheykh  Bakir,  ap- 
proached it  about  three  o'clock.  Horses  were  teth- 
ered round  the  walls.  Soldiers  came  and  went  con- 
tinually, pushing  through  the  crowd  of  villagers, 
some  wounded,  all  dishevelled,  who  stood  like  fright- 
ened sheep  and  gazed  upon  the  house  which  for  the 
moment  had  become  the  seat  of  the  provincial  gov- 
ernment. Except  for  the  occasional  squeal  and 
plunge  of  a  stallion,  and  a  tremulous  wail  from 
women  in  the  crowd,  the  scene  was  strangely  silent. 

"They  repent  now  of  their  madness,"  said  the 
Sheykh  Bakir  to  his  companion.  "They  clutch  at 
me  and  beg  my  intercession.  They  fear  the  presence 
of  the  Wali  more  than  death.  The  sky  will  fall,  they 
think,  now  he  is  come.  God  knows  how  they  mis- 
judge him!  My  father  used  to  pray:  'God  send  a 
Turk  in  an  emergency,'  and  I  shall  pray  the  same 
from  this  day  forward ;  for  far  from  seeking  to  take 

280 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  281 

vengeance,  as  our  people  think,  the  Wall's  one 
thought  is  for  lasting  peace  between  the  villagers. 
The  difficulty  lies  in  this:  The  Muslimin  possess  no 
certain  knowledge  of  the  murder  yesterday.  They 
clamour  for  the  body  of  the  child.  We  have  in  cus- 
tody Amin  the  murderer,  who  knows  exactly  where 
that  body  is.  The  Wali  would  not  have  the  body 
found,  desiring  as  he  does  a  lasting  peace.  But  our 
people,  having  made  a  pretty  legend  of  the  murder, 
demand  to  hear  the  witness  of  the  said  Amin,  believ- 
ing that  it  will  confirm  their  innocence.  The  Wali 
gave  them  precedence  in  pleading,  and  they  have 
been  asking  for  Amin  for  two  whole  hours.  Now  we 
are  going  to  hear  the  Muslim  case.  It  is  for  that 
your  presence  is  required,  since  it  concerns  our  lady. 
God  grant  us  patience,  for  these  feMhin  make  many 
words." 

While  speaking,  Bakir  had  forced  his  way  through 
the  crowd.  A  soldier,  issuing  from  the  house,  ex- 
changed a  word  with  him. 

"Amin  is  called  at  last,"  he  said  to  Fenn. 

The  sentry  at  the  door  saluted,  and  they  passed 
into  a  long  dim  room — silent  save  for  the  murmur 
of  a  single  voice  which  spoke  continuously.  As 
Fenn's  eyes  grew  accustomed  to  the  gloom,  he  saw 
the  speaker,  an  old  man  with  head  bandaged.  It 
was  the  headman  of  Ai'neyn,  and  he  was  telling 
the  whole  story  of  Miss  Wilding's  persecutions  in 
the  low,  even  tone  which  Muslims  deem  respectful. 
When  he  ceased  there  was  a  dead  silence  in  the  room 


282  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

for  several  heartbeats  till  the  Wali  asked  his  clerk: 
"Is  that  all  written?" 

"Written,  efendim." 

Hasan  Pasha  sat  in  an  armchair  upon  the  dais, 
the  secretary  near  him  at  a  little  table.  Sounds 
floated  in  through  door  and  windows — the  scream 
and  stamp  of  horses,  murmurs  of  the  crowd,  the 
grating  song  of  the  cicadas  and  the  hum  of  bees. 
The  Wall  seemed  to  be  asleep,  so  still  he  was.  At 
length  he  spoke  again  to  his  secretary,  who  stepped 
delicately  down  the  room  and  fetched  the  English- 
man, for  whom  a  chair  was  set  upon  the  dais.  On 
one  side  of  the  long  hall  sat  the  Deyr  Amuni  chiefs, 
upon  the  other  the  Ai'neyni.  Most  of  them  were 
wounded  or  had  blood  upon  them.  Their  bearing 
now  was  that  of  timid  children. 

"You  heard  what  the  sheykh  of  Ai'neyn  said,  did 
you  not,  monsieur?"  the  Wali  asked  of  Fenn,  when 
he  had  taken  seat.  "It  was  for  that  particularly 
that  I  wished  you  to  be  present.  You  are  a  friend 
of  the  demoiselle  and  can  inform  her  gently  of  the 
harm  which  she  has  done  all  unintentionally.  You 
will  be  able  also  to  inform  the  other  English.  I 
would  have  it  known.  Excuse  me  now;  I  must  con- 
clude this  business." 

He  seemed  to  struggle  with  a  growing  torpor. 

"You  deserve  the  utmost  punishment,"  he  re- 
marked quietly ;  "both  you  of  Deyr  Amun,  and  you 
of  Ai'neyn.  And,  by  Allah,  you  shall  both  be  pun- 
ished very  heavily  unless  you  become  reconciled  here 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  283 

in  my  presence,  now,  immediately.  There  has  been 
enough  of  bloodshed  for  no  reason.  Be  ashamed, 
both  parties  of  you,  and  forsake  this  madness. 
Well,  what  say  you?" 

"May  it  please  your  Excellency,"  said  the  head- 
man of  Aineyn.  "The  reason  of  our  rage  was  not 
the  Englishwoman's  teaching — no,  by  Allah! — but 
the  murder  of  the  child  which  took  place  yesterday. 
We  are  willing  to  forego  both  the  blood-money  and 
vengeance,  but  the  body  we  would  have  for  proper 
burial.  That  is  an  easy  and  a  just  demand.  When 
that  is  done,  we  will  be  reconciled."  A  murmur  of 
approval  came  from  that  side  of  the  room. 

"What  say  you  others?"  Hasan  Pasha  turned 
to  Deyr  Amun. 

Antun,  the  priest,  who  had  his  arm  in  a  sling, 
made  answer  in  a  grumbling  tone. 

"O  Excellency,  how  can  we  give  back  that  which 
we  do  not  possess?  We  know  not  where  the  body 
is,  nor  have  we  any  knowledge  of  the  child  in  ques- 
tion." 

Another  murmured:  "By  the  Truth,  there  was 
no  killing.  The  boy  fell  down  and  killed  himself 
upon  a  stone.  It  was  from  Allah.  Our  boys  were 
terrified  and  ran  away.  The  body  will  be  lying  in 
the  wady  where  they  left  it,  unless  the  boy  recovered, 
which  is  very  likely.  Amin  the  murderer  saw  all  that 
passed.  He  can  inform  your  Excellency." 

"Aye,  hear  Amm  the  murderer,"  was  murmured 
generally. 


284  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

"Is  he  yet  here?"  asked  Hasan  Pasha  of  his  sec- 
retary, who  went  out  straightway  to  inquire;  and 
presently  Ainin  was  brought  in  by  two  soldiers.  He 
stood  before  the  dais  with  downcast  eyes. 

"Listen,  O  Amin,"  the  Pasha  said  to  him.  "What 
was  the  case  of  the  boy  who  perished  yesterday  down 
in  the  wady?  Tell  me  exactly  how  his  death  befell." 

Amin  gave  a  great  gulp  or  two  and  then  said 
huskily — 

"The  Muslims  were  on  our  side  of  the  stream. 
Our  children  met  them  and  they  fought  together. 
I  saw  them  from  my  field  where  I  was  working.  The 
Muslims  fled  at  last,  but  one  was  left  behind.  He 
had  fallen  in  the  battle  and  seemed  stunned.  Our 
children  took  great  stones" — he  raised  both  hands 
above  his  head — "and  dashed  them  down  on  him — 
bourn!  bourn! — like  that.  I  cried  to  them  to  stop 
for  Allah's  sake.  I  ran  down  from  my  field  to  pun- 
ish them,  but  by  the  time  I  reached  the  bottom  of 
the  wady  he  was  dead." 

A  groan  came  from  the  people  of  Ai'neyn. 

"What  happened  after  that?"  inquired  the  Pasha. 

"I  helped  them  make  a  hole  and  bury  him." 

"And  thou  couldst  find  the  body  at  this  moment?" 

"Aye,  by  Allah!" 

"That  is  enough.  Remove  the  witness.  .  .  .  Now 
what  say  you  to  this,  O  men  of  Deyr  Amun?" 

"We  say  that  it  is  a  lie,"  replied  the  priest  with 
more  of  vehemence  than  any  one  had  yet  used  in 
the  Wall's  presence.  "It  is  my  duty  to  inform  your 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  S85 

Excellency  that  this  man  Amin  is  a  notorious  male- 
factor, the  worst  of  all  the  village,  and  untrust- 
worthy." 

"May  Allah  cut  thy  life,  O  Antun,  for  this  trea- 
son!" cried  Amin,  who  overheard  this  speech  from 
near  the  doorway.  "Thou  knowest  how  I  ever  strove 
after  the  good,  and  never  did  the  evil  but  against 
my  will." 

"Silence!"  enjoined  a  soldier  at  the  door. 

"I  have  tried  to  reason  with  you,"  said  the  Wall, 
leaning  back  with  eyes  closed,  "but  it  proves  in  vain. 
Now  hear  my  judgment,  all  of  you.  Soldiers  are 
going  to  exhume  the  body  of  the  child,  and  the 
sheykh  of  Deyr  Amun  and  two  of  the  elders  of  that 
village  will  attend  them.  Then  the  soldiers  will  con- 
vey the  body  to  Aineyn  and  place  it  in  the  cemetery 
there.  The  representatives  of  Deyr  Amun  will  go 
no  further  than  their  village  boundary,  where  the 
representatives  of  Aineyn  will  meet  them  and  receive 
the  body  at  their  hands.  This  is  my  award  to 
Aineyn.  On  the  other  hand,  for  the  attack  on  Deyr 
Amun,  contrary  to  law,  and  for  the  damage  done  to 
property,  Aineyn  is  mulcted  in  the  sum  of  10,000 
piastres  to  be  paid  immediately,  and  in  whatever 
further  sum  may  be  judged  necessary  by  the  court 
of  arbitration  to  be  formed  hereafter.  The  provo- 
cation will  be  weighed  and  taken  into  due  account, 
and  neither  party  will,  I  think,  have  cause  to  tri- 
umph. There  has  been  enough  of  suffering  to-day, 
it  seems  to  me,  and  so  I  shall  not  punish  individuals. 


286  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

But  if  the  trouble  is  renewed  I  shall  hang  ten  of 
either  party.  Be  reconciled.  That  will  be  best  for 
everybody." 

The  Wali  then  uprose,  the  whole  room  with  him. 
He  clutched  Fenn's  arm  and  muttered  through 
clenched  teeth:  "You  have  a  tent  here,  have  you 
not,  monsieur?  Let  me  rest  there  for  half-an-hour, 
and  bring  the  English  doctor  to  me.  I  cannot 
mount  my  horse  without  assistance.  Let  me  walk 
with  you." 

An  angry  murmur  could  be  heard  without. 

"They  think  I  have  shown  favour  to  the  Mussul- 
mans," the  Wali  sighed,  "in  ordering  the  body  of 
the  child  to  be  conveyed  by  soldiers — a  great  hon- 
our !  God  knows  I  did  it  only  to  prevent  the  people 
of  Aineyn  from  gazing  on  the  body." 

As  he  issued  from  the  house,  dead  silence  fell. 
His  horse  stood  ready  in  a  soldier's  charge.  He  told 
the  man  to  ride  it  to  Miss  Wilding's  house  and  call 
the  English  doctor  to  the  tents  behind  the  church; 
then  moved  off  slowly,  leaning  on  Fenn's  arm.  His 
aide-de-camp,  in  evident  anxiety,  walked  on  his 
other  side  and  gave  support,  when  needed,  unobtru- 
sively. They  had  but  half-a-mile  to  go,  and  were 
already  in  sight  of  the  tents,  when  a  shot  was  fired 
so  close  to  them  that  the  report  was  deafening.  As 
Fenn  recovered  from  surprise,  he  saw  a  little  cloud 
of  smoke  dispersing  by  a  terrace  wall,  and  the  aide- 
de-camp  scrambling  up  towards  it  furiously. 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  287 

"Come  back!"  the  Wall  cried.  "It  is  nothing. 
Only  my  fez  this  time,  the  praise  to  Allah  i" 

"I  see  you  have  been  startled  by  that  incident," 
he  said  to  Fenn  a  little  later,  after  Dr.  Wilson  had 
attended  to  his  wounded  arm.  "For  me  it  is  quite 
banal.  It  is  difficult  for  one  of  us  to  realize  the  life 
of  Englishmen — always  secure,  always  at  peace." 

The  Sheykh  Bakir  came  in  to  say  that  all  was 
well.  The  body  of  the  murdered  child  had  been  ex- 
humed in  presence  of  the  sheykh  of  Deyr  Amun, 
the  priest  and  other  elders,  who  had  had  the  grace 
to  show  some  horror  and  throw  dust  upon  their 
faces.  He  had  seen  it  placed  in  a  stout  coffin  and 
covered  with  a  decent  pall.  The  soldiers  had  their 
orders  to  take  care  that  no  one  of  Aineyn  got  sight 
of  it. 

"Good,"  said  the  Wali,  rising  to  take  leave.  He 
mounted  with  assistance  from  Bakir  and  rode  away 
towards  the  headman's  house.  A  minute  after,  bu- 
gles sounded,  rousing  all  the  echoes  of  the  mountain- 
side. The  soldiers  were  departing,  all  but  half  a 
company  detailed  to  do  the  bidding  of  the  Sheykh 
Bakir.  * 

Fenn  walked  back  with  the  doctor  to  Miss  Wild- 
ing's house.  The  glow  of  sunset  was  upon  the  burnt- 
out  houses.  The  frogs  were  noisy  in  the  garden 
tanks.  The  doves  belonging  to  the  church  were  coo- 
ing tenderly.  Family  groups  were  searching  in  the 
ruins.  From  houses  which  had  been  uninjured  came 
the  sounds  of  wailing.  Dr.  Wilson  talked  despond- 


288  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

ently  about  the  damage  done,  but  Fenn  was  think- 
ing only  of  the  Wali.  Never  in  all  his  lifetime  had 
he  met  a  man  who  impressed  him  as  so  lonely  yet 
preserved  both  wit  and  courage.  As  he  considered 
all  that  the  old  man  had  borne  that  day,  a  great  and 
righteous  anger  against  Elsie  filled  his  heart,  with- 
out at  all  diminishing  his  love  for  her.  He  meant 
to  tell  her  plainly  what  he  thought  about  her  con- 
duct, but  when  he  reached  the  house  Faris  informed 
him  that  the  lady's  aunt  had  arrived  from  the  city, 
also  the  English  Consul,  also  certain  missionaries ; 
and  that,  what  with  the  wounded  occupying  all  the 
downstairs  rooms,  and  what  with  these  unlooked-for 
visitors,  Jemileh  and  the  Sitt  were  at  their  wits'  end. 
On  hearing  this  Fenn  went  away  again,  and  on  the 
morrow  he  forgot  his  purpose  to  be  disagreeable. 


XXXV 

ELSIE  heard  compliments  from  the  missionaries 
upon  her  presence  of  mind  during  the  battle,  as 
shown  in  preparations  to  defend  the  house  and  ex- 
cellent arrangements  for  the  wounded ;  and  she  felt 
humiliated,  for  the  compliments  were  undeserved. 
Everything  for  which  they  praised  her  was  the  work 
of  Mr.  Fenn.  The  pandemonium  of  the  screaming 
women  in  the  house,  the  horror  of  the  fight  outside, 
had  quite  unnerved  her  until  he  appeared  upon  the 
scene.  How  could  she  care  for  anybody  who  de- 
spised her?  She  wished  that  he  would  go  away; 
but  he  remained,  and  justified  his  presence  by  con- 
tinued usefulness.  There  was  another  reason  why 
she  felt  humiliated  by  the  praise  which  she  received. 
It  was  given  with  a  certain  air  of  generosity,  as  if 
the  speakers,  anxious  to  be  kind,  were  glad  to  meet 
with  something  she  had  done  which  could  be  praised 
wholeheartedly. 

Dr.  Wilson,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Edison,  Mr.  Jones. 
Miss  Jane  Berenger  and  an  English  nurse  from  the 
hospital  were  staying  in  the  house  uncomfortably, 
while  the  Khawajah  Yusuf  and  the  doctor's  assistant 
had  a  lodging  in  the  village,  but  came  in  for  meals ; 
nor  could  Elsie  see  much  hope  of  getting  rid  of 

289 


290  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

these  invaders  so  long  as  there  were  thirty  wounded 
Muslims  to  be  nursed  and  prayed  for.  She  was 
friendly  in  her  speech  to  them,  however,  reserving 
all  her  bitterness  for  Fenn,  while  giving  him  no  time 
for  argument  or  explanation.  Jemileh  longed  to 
lock  them  up  together  in  one  room.  If  she  went  on 
like  this,  Elsie  would  drive  the  man  away  with  the 
impression  that  she  hated  him — a  horrid  prospect 
for  Jemileh,  who  saw  herself  bound  for  life  to  a  dan- 
gerous lunatic,  since  she  knew  that  she  would  never 
have  the  courage  to  destroy  the  amiable  image  of 
herself  in  Elsie's  eyes. 

On  the  evening  of  the  fight,  the  English  Consul 
had  spoken  to  Miss  Wilding  seriously  in  the  pres- 
ence of  her  aunt. 

"If  you'll  take  my  advice,"  he  had  said,  "you'll 
wait  a  little  while  to  save  appearances,  and  then  go 
home  to  England." 

He  paced  the  floor  of  Elsie's  boudoir,  now  the 
only  sitting-room,  the  hall  and  all  the  rooms  down- 
stairs adjoining  it  being  given  over  to  the  uses  of 
a  temporary  hospital. 

"But  how  about  my  work?"  said  the  girl  mis- 
erably. "I  feel  some  responsibility  towards  the  peo- 
ple here.  I  have  raised  their  expectations,  made 
them  think  I  should  go  on  with  it." 

No  sooner  had  she  said  the  words  than  she  re- 
gretted them. 

The  Consul  shrugged:  "What  is  your  work  ex- 
actly?" and  she  had  no  answer.  She  would  not  in- 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  291 

vite  ridicule  by  mentioning  the  little  class  of 
girls  assembled  by  Jemileh  at  uncertain  hours  and 
inspected  by  herself  when  she  felt  in  the  mood;  the 
Sunday  meetings  and  her  little  "talks"  to  those  who 
came  to  them.  The  dispensary  was  something,  but 
it  was  not  hers.  Her  going  would  not  injure  it  at 
all. 

"You  must  not  be  too  hard  on  Elsie,"  murmured 
Miss  Jane  Berenger,  touched  by  her  niece's  crest- 
fallen appearance.  "She  did  not  know  the  hidden 
forces  that  she  had  to  deal  with." 

"Like  a  child  at  play  with  matches  near  a  cask 
of  gunpowder!"  the  Consul  flashed.  "The  child  is 
not  to  blame,  save  only  in  so  far  as  it  is  disobedient. 
No  child  should  ever  be  allowed  to  play  near  gun- 
powder. She  must  go  back  to  England." 

Elsie  flushed  as  at  a  slap  in  the  face. 

"I  shall  not  obey  you,"  she  cried  out  indignantly. 
"What  right  have  you  to  speak  to  me  like  that? 
And  does  not  all  this  trouble  only  show  the  need 
these  people  have  of  civilizing  and  refining  influ- 
ences? I  am  more  than  ever  convinced  that  there  is 
work  to  be  done  here — work  which  nobody  is  doing 
yet — although  I  may  have  failed  at  first  through  ig- 
norance. Now  that  I  have  bought  experience,  I  shall 
try  again  in  quite  a  different  way." 

"Well,  do  it  somewhere  else!  I  don't  care  where 
you  go,  so  long  as  it  is  outside  my  responsibility. 
I  imagine  that  Hasan  Pasha  feels  the  same.  Forgive 
my  speaking  bluntly,"  said  the  Consul. 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

"Why  do  you  throw  the  blame  for  all  that  has 
happened  upon  me?"  asked  Elsie,  very  near  to  tears. 

"I'll  tell  you  why.  I'd  meant  to  spare  you  that, 
but  since  you  ask  for  it  expressly,  you  shall  have  it. 
Do  you  know  that  the  body  of  the  little  boy  these 
people  murdered  was  mutilated  in  a  horrid  and  dis- 
gusting way?  No,  I  thought  not.  It  will  be  hushed 
up  by  the  Wali's  orders.  Fenn  knows,  but  he  won't 
tell  you,  having  regard  for  your  precious  feelings. 
That  murder  was  the  immediate  cause  of  the  attack 
on  Deyr  Amun.  It  happened  in  this  way.  Some 
Christian  boys  taunted  some  Muslim  boys  with  the 
helplessness  of  their  parents  under  your  insults — 
that's  what  both  parties  consider  your  sermons  to 
have  been:  insults  to  the  Mahometan  religion — 
taunted  them  with  their  impotence  against  the  Eng- 
lish who  are  Christians,  the  English  who  take  care 
of  Deyr  Amun  because  you  live  here.  The  sheykh 
of  the  village,  when  he  heard  about  the  murder,  dis- 
patched a  messenger  to  me,  quite  coolly  asking  for 
protection.  So  you  see  now  that  your — 'work'  I 
think  you  called  it — really  caused  the  state  of  things 
we  all  deplore." 

"I  think  you  most  unfair,"  said  Elsie,  going  to  the 
window,  whence  through  the  mist  of  tears  she  had  a 
glimpse  of  Mr.  Fenn  conversing  with  the  Sheykh 
Bakir  upon  the  terrace  in  the  evening  light.  De- 
siring above  all  things  some  one  to  support  her 
with  whole-hearted  admiration,  the  sight  of  him  just 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  293 

then  increased  her  wretchedness.  He  would  agree 
with  every  word  the  Consul  said. 

"It  seems  to  me  my  presence  here  has  been  some 
use.  The  wounded  ..." 

"If  you'd  only  kept  to  work  of  that  sort  and 
put  theology  behind  you!"  cried  the  Consul. 

"I  shall  keep  to  work  of  that  sort  in  the  future. 
But  how  can  one  put  religion  in  the  background? 
It  is  the  chief  thing." 

"It  was  not  meant  to  be  a  club  with  which  to  bash 
one's  neighbours,  but  an  inward  guide  to  make  one 
love  them,  I  imagine,"  was  the  dry  reply. 

Her  aunt  was  very  sympathetic  afterwards;  but 
Elsie  felt  the  pity  in  her  sympathy — a  pity  born 
of  reprehension — and  made  no  response  to  it.  She 
fled  for  comfort  to  Jemileh,  spending  hours  alone 
with  her,  recounting  all  the  Consul's  words  with  a 
self-justifying  commentary. 

"I  exbect  the  Wali  worried  him  and  made  him 
cross,"  Jemileh  soothed  her.  "I  do  not  know  what- 
effer  I  should  do,  Miss  Elsie,  if  you  left  this 
country." 

"I  don't  see  why  I  should,"  said  Elsie  hotly.  "And 
I  certainly  don't  want  to  part  from  you,  Jemileh. 
We  might  go  to  some  other  place  outside  his  district, 
and  start  our  work  afresh  on  better  lines.  One 
thing  I  have  learnt  from  all  this  trouble,  and  that  is 
that  the  Muslims  need  us  far  more  than  the  Chris- 
tians. We  could  live  in  some  Muslim  centre  and 
begin  by  doing  education  work  or  nursing." 


294  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

Had  Jemileh's  real  opinion  of  the  prospect  thus 
held  out  to  her  governed  her  behaviour  in  the  least 
degree,  she  would  then  and  there  have  sprung  up' 
and  denounced  her  mistress  as  a  maniac,  washing  her 
hands  of  her  and  all  her  doings.  But  what  she 
feigned  to  be  she  was,  in  conscious  moments.  She 
could  not  feign  to  be  a  wicked  or  unpleasant  per- 
son. If  occasionally  she  appeared  in  such  a  role,  it 
was  only  at  some  moment  when  she  was  not  thinking. 

"I  am  afraid  you  would  be  fery  lonely,  just  with 
only  me,  no  English  beeble,"  was  all  her  comment  on 
the  mad  proposal. 

"My  one  wish  is  to  get  away  from  English  people. 
You  see  how  they  behave  to  me!  I  have  no  friends 
but  you." 

"There's  Mr.  Fenn.  He  lufs  you  fery  much 
indeed." 

"He ! — I  think  he  hates  me !"  answered  Elsie,  with 
a  sob-like  laugh. 

"Oh,  no.  He  lufs  you,  I  am  sure !"  Jemileh 
pleaded. 

"Well,  that's  what  I  think  of  doing,"  Elsie  sighed. 
"We  must  talk  it  out  together,  and  choose  where  to 
go." 

Jemileh  was  exceedingly  alarmed.  Her  heart  beat 
in  her  brain  with  apprehension.  Yet  she  pretended  a 
delighted  acquiescence  until  left  alone,  when  she 
rushed  out  to  speak  a  word  to  the  priest  Antun. 

He  was  squatting  by  the  church  wall  with  a  group 
of  elders  when  she  came  upon  him;  and  in  presence 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  295 

of  them  all  she  asked  his  counsel,  exclaiming,  not 
without  a  touch  of  impudence — 

"I  have  a  problem  for  thee,  O  our  father.  There 
is  the  Sitt  and  there  is  the  small  khawajah,  close 
together  yet  so  far  apart.  They  love  each  other  yet 
they  quarrel  daily.  She  eludes  him,  will  not  let 
him  finish  speaking.  Would  it  be  a  sin  for  me  to 
bring  them  into  marriage  by  guile  or,  as  it  were, 
by  violence?" 

"Say  what  is  in  thy  mind,"  said  Antun,  puzzled. 

"I  mean  to  lock  them  in  a  room  together  one  whole 
night." 

"No  sin,  but  a  kind  action  in  the  case  of  timid 
lovers.  As  lawful  as  for  one  to  help  an  ass  out  of 
a  pit,  or  show  a  man  astray  the  path  to  safety," 
laughed  the  priest.  "Wallahi,  thus  I  see  it!  What 
say  you,  O  neighbours?" 

"No  sin;  a  kindness  and  a  pleasant  jest!  Return 
and  tell  us  how  things  go,  O  lady !" 

"A  good  idea,  by  Allah !  Aye,  by  the  Holy  Cross, 
a  plan  that  will  not  fail.  After  that  she  will  be  glad 
enough  to  be  his  bride." 

Cheered  by  the  applause  and  laughter  which  her 
scheme  evoked,  Jemileh  started  on  her  homeward 
way.  She  met  the  small  khawajah,  looking  down- 
cast. He  inquired  after  her  brother.  Faris,  being 
out  of  danger,  had  been  moved  to  his  own  home,  and 
the  small  khawajah  thought  that  she  had  been  to 
visit  him.  He  was  going  to  pass  on,  when  she  said 


296  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

pointedly:  "I  hear  that  you  are  going  to  leaf  us, 
sir." 

"I  must.     I'm  no  longer  wanted." 

"Oh,  no!  Do  not  say  that.  Miss  Elsie  lufs  you 
fery  much.  Only  she  is  not  herself  these  days ;  she 
is  so  worried  by  these  other  beeble  and  the  way  they 
talk.  She's  fery  broud.  She  knows  she's  acted 
silly.  She  thinks  you  hate  her  for  it,  and  that's  why 
she's  cold.  She  lufs  you  more  than  anybody ;  that 
is  truth.  I  think  she'd  die  if  you  did  go  away." 

The  small  khawajah  manifesting  no  displeasure, 
though  looking  much  abashed  at  these  disclosures, 
Jemileh  went  on  to  advise — 

"Don't  treat  her  so  resbectful,  like  you  haf  done. 
Take  hold  of  her  and  tell  her  what  you  feel;  don't 
let  her  sbeak.  When  all  the  others  go  to  bed  to-night 
you  stay  behind;  it  is  the  only  way.  You  neffer  get 
no  chance  when  they're  about." 

A  shade  of  haughtiness  was  on  his  face  as  he 
replied:  "I  see." 

That  evening  the  whole  party  sat  in  Elsie's  up- 
stairs sitting-room,  of  which  the  window  was  wide 
open,  but  the  shutters  closed.  Jemileh,  in  a  corner, 
knitted  lace.  She  kept  debating  whether  she  would 
have  the  courage  verily  to  lock  that  door  upon  the 
lovers,  supposing  they  remained  alone  together.  At 
moments  such  an  act  of  insurrection  seemed  beyond 
her  strength,  till  she  recalled  the  laughter  of  the 
priest  and  his  companions,  when  she  thought  it 
feasible.  As  bedtime  drew  near,  she  lost  those  per- 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  297 

sonal  misgivings  in  an  apprehension  that  the  small 
khawajah  might  go  off  as  usual  to  his  tent  without 
the  minute's  private  talk  with  Elsie  which  was  all 
she  needed. 

Elsie  was  playing  Halma  with  her  aunt.  The 
small  khawajah  was  engaged  with  Mr.  Edison  in  a 
long  and  tedious  disputation  on  the  state  of  Europe, 
to  which  the  Khawajah  Yusuf  contributed  obsequious 
remarks  from  time  to  time — "Fery  true."  "That  is 
quite  right,  sir."  "I  see  you  know  what  you  are  say- 
ing." "I  wish  that  my  son  Barsi  could  be  here  to 
sbeak  with  you" — supporting  both  the  disputants 
impartially  and  with  the  same  enthusiasm.  His  eager 
interest  alone  appeared  to  keep  them  at  discussion. 
Dr.  Wilson  dozed  over  an  English  journal.  Mrs. 
Edison  and  the  English  nurse  were  doing  needlework, 
emitting  a  remark  but  seldom.  Jemileh  in  her  corner 
waited  with  a  beating  heart. 

Mrs.  Edison  was  first  to  say  good-night.  The 
nurse  went  with  her.  Then  the  Khawajah  Yusuf 
took  his  leave.  He  had  a  long  walk  to  his  lodging  in 
the  village  and,  being  constitutionally  shy  of  dark- 
ness, had  suborned  old  Abu  Faris  to  escort  him 
thither  with  a  lantern.  His  going  stopped  the  long 
political  debate.  Dr.  Wilson  woke  up  with  a  start 
and  rose,  declaring  he  would  go  to  bed,  since  he 
was  so  absurdly  sleepy.  Mr.  Edison  and  the  small 
khawajah  went  and  stood  beside  the  table,  observing 
the  conclusion  of  the  game  of  Halma.  When  that 
was  finished,  Miss  Jane  and  Elsie  also  rose.  Jemileh 


298  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

in  a  tremble  saw  the  small  khawajah  whispering  to 
Elsie.  Was  he  asking  leave  to  speak  with  her  alone  ? 
He  blushed  absurdly.  If  she  asked  him  to  walk  out 
upon  the  terrace,  then  the  plot  had  failed. 

Jemileh  gathered  up  her  work  into  a  ball,  said 
a  demure  good-night  and  slipped  out  of  the  room,  to 
watch  the  issue  from  her  bedroom  doorway  close  at 
hand.  Miss  Jane  went  by  to  bed ;  then  Mr.  Edison. 
The  couple  were  alone  in  Elsie's  sitting-room.  The 
door  was  shut. 

Jemileh  stole  up  to  the  door  on  tiptoe  and  locked 
it  with  the  key  she  had  been  fingering  throughout 
the  evening.  They  could  not  get  out  without  break- 
ing through  the  door,  which  opened  inwards;  and 
that  would  make  a  noise  to  bring  the  missionaries 
down  on  them.  The  window  was  quite  twenty  feet 
above  the  ground  outside ;  the  wall  fell  sheer  beneath 
it.  Jemileh  listened  for  a  minute  to  the  voices,  the 
man's  appealing  and  the  woman's  scornful;  then, 
with  a  beating  heart,  retired  to  rest. 


XXXVI 

ON  finding  himself  alone  with  Elsie,  Fenn  began 
in  the  most  formal  manner.  Five  minutes  since  he 
had  been  praying  for  this  interview,  yet  now  that 
it  was  granted  him  he  was  embarrassed  to  the  point 
of  stammering. 

"I  ought  to  go  away,"  he  said ;  "I  have  no  business 
here  and  no  excuse  for  staying  on,  except  the 
pleasure  which  I  find  in  being  near  you.  But  before 
I  go  I  think  it  only  fair  to  both  of  us  to  ask  you  the 
plain  question:  'Will  you  marry  me?'  I  put  it 
bluntly.  I  am  not  what  people  call  a  lady's  man." 

There  was  a  moment  of  dead  silence,  while  his 
heart  beat  like  a  drum,  ere  Elsie,  with  her  face 
averted,  answered,  in  a  manner  of  complete  detach- 
ment— 

"How  can  I  marry  a  man  who  thinks  that  every- 
thing I  do  is  wrong  or  silly,  and  does  not  believe  as 
I  do?" 

"How  do  you  know  I  don't  believe  as  you  do?" 

"Haven't  we  talked  enough  upon  that  subject? 
I  am  sick  of  it." 

"It  is  only  outward,  unimportant  things  on  which 
we  differ!" 

"How  can  you  say  so?  I  believe  that  the  hope  of 
299 


300  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

man's  salvation  is  through  Christ  alone,  and  you,  I 
fear,  do  not,  or  you  could  never  call  it  a  mistake  to 
try  to  spread  the  faith  by  every  means." 

"Even  at  the  sword's  point?"  he  questioned. 
"Well,  I  must  confess  I  stop  at  that." 

"You  turn  everything  to  ridicule !  That's  what 
I  hate  in  you,"  cried  Elsie;  and  she  then  went  on  to 
enumerate  the  various  points  which  she  detested  in 
his  character  and  conduct,  gaining  vehemence  as  she 
proceeded. 

"Well,  I  asked  you  a  plain  question,"  was  his 
answer  to  the  long  tirade.  "My  happiness  in  life 
depends  on  your  reply." 

"How  can  your  happiness  depend  on  such  a  worth- 
less and  misguided  girl?" 

"Misguided  creatures  call  for  guidance.  And  I 
may  feel  that  I  have  a  vocation  in  this  particular 
case.  If  you  must  know,  I  find  that  you,  with  every- 
thing that  you  believe — or  fancy  you  believe — and 
think  and  do,  are  necessary  to  my  happiness.  I 
learnt  that  while  I  was  away.  I  love  you  and  would 
give  the  world  to  get  you,  if  you  want  the  truth.  I 
don't  see  why  my  views  concerning  missionaries  need 
stand  in  the  way.  The  only  question  should  be :  Do 
you  care  for  me  at  all?" 

"Of  course  your  views  on  missionaries  stand  be- 
tween us,  since  I  am  a  missionary." 

"You're  not.  And,  if  you  really  were,  it  wouldn't 
matter  in  the  least.  I  have  asked  you  a  plain  ques- 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  301 

tion:  Will  you  marry  me  ?  Say  yes  or  no.  I'll  take 
your  answer — for  the  present." 

"No,  then;  since  you  insult  me  while  you  ask  that 
question,"  cried  Elsie  in  a  towering  rage.  She  has- 
tened to  the  door  and  tried  to  open  it. 

"Some  one  has  locked  it  on  the  outside,"  she  ex- 
claimed. "What  shall  I  do?" 

She  burst  out  sobbing  helplessly.  He  knelt  before 
her;  he  took  both  her  hands  and,  meeting  no  resist- 
ance, kissed  them  fervently.  Then,  in  his  exultation, 
words  of  passion  came  to  him;  he  poured  his  heart 
out,  and  in  a  little  while  he  had  her  in  his  arms. 
There  was  no  question  and  no  answer.  She  was  his. 
He  led  her  to  the  sofa  and  sat  down  beside  her. 

And  then  came  her  confession,  brokenly.  She  had 
always  known  that  she  was  somehow  wrong — at  least, 
not  wrong,  but  not  a  proper  missionary.  She  had 
had  bright  visions  of  what  should  be  done,  but  when 
she  strove  to  realize  them,  everything  went  wrong 
and  turned  to  badness.  She  was  lazy,  taking  rides 
with  Fan's  and  the  Sheykh  Bakir  when  she  ought 
to  have  been  at  work  among  the  people.  She  had 
meant  to  give  it  up  about  the  time  that  Jack  arrived, 
aware  that  she  had  lost  her  guiding  light.  Then 
Jack — and  other  people — had  said  things  to  anger 
her ;  she  had  regained  her  vision  in  a  flash  of  pride. 
But  it  was  not  the  same.  Thenceforth  she  acted  in 
defiance,  just  to  prove  the  people  wrong  who  doubted 

her  religious  zeal.  And  then All  this  had  come 

of  it.  She  felt  most  miserable,  but  the  way  that 


302  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

people  talked  had  kept  her  pride  inflamed.  In  many 
ways  she  always  knew  that  he  was  right,  as  touching 
herself.  In  all  material  ways  he  had  been  right,  but 
there  were  spiritual. 

"You  ought  not  to  talk  as  you  do  sometimes, 
really!  It  does  harm — makes  people  think  that  you 
believe  in  nothing.  It  has  often  made  me  sad,  and 
angry  too,  to  hear  you  talking  as  if  all  men  had 
the  lowest  motives,  and  religion  did  not  change  them 
in  the  least.  One  ought  not  to  lay  stress,  I  think, 
on  horrid  facts.  One  ought  to  think  of  higher  things, 
even — even  if  they're  not  quite  true,  as  we  perceive 
them.  Don't  take  me  up !  I  don't  mean  that  exactly. 
I  mean,  even  if  the  higher  things  seem  inconsistent 
with  the  horrors  which  we  see  around  us  in  the 
world.  We  ought  to  try  to  raise  men  up  with  nobler 
thoughts,  to  set  up  an  ideal  which  should  edify 
them,  don't  you  think?"  She  held  his  hand  appeal- 
ingly,  caressing  it.  "The  mischief  is,  the  wretched, 
cruel  things  in  life  are  all  so  true.  That  is  what 
worries  me." 

"I  think  you  are  quite  right,"  Fenn  answered, 
with  due  earnestness.  "But  in  order  to  present  a 
sound  ideal  to  the  world,  you  ought,  I  think,  to 
search  for  truth — even  material  truth — with  dili- 
gence, and  welcome  it  wherever  found.  Some  people, 
through  star-gazing,  lose  their  sight.  I  think  you 
ought  to  welcome  every  disillusion  as  a  great  step 
forward  on  the  road  which  every  one  is  put  into  this 
world  to  tread." 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  303 

"Oh,  do  you  really  think  so?"  Elsie  whispered 
eagerly.  "Now  you  are  talking  seriously.  Why 
did  you  never  talk  to  me  like  that  before?  I  should 
be  glad  to  think  of  it  in  that  way.  I  thought  I 
should  be  falling  from  the  faith  if  I  accepted  certain 
facts.  That's  what  they  teach  us.  And  I  have  been 
miserable.  Eminch  Khanum  used  to  anger  me  when 
I  went  to  see  her  because  she  thought  and  spoke 
quite  candidly  on  every  subject.  You  do  believe  in 
Christian  teaching,  don't  you?" 

"I  do,  according  to  my  lights." 

"But  are  your  lights  sufficient?" 

"Of  course  they're  not.     I  ask  for  yours  as  well." 

"Mine  are  no  good."  Elsie  began  to  cry.  He 
took  her  in  his  arms  and  kissed  her.  She  clung  close 
to  him,  weeping  in  complete  abandonment,  like  a 
tired  child.  She  sobbed — 

"There  is  a  thing  which  worries  me.  Ever  since 
that  dreadful  fight,  when  he  behaved  so  bravely,  I 
feel  as  if  I  ought  to  beg  the  Pasha's  pardon.  He 
has  always  been  so  kind  to  me,  and  he  was  wounded. 
Oh,  I  cannot  tell  you  how  I  feel  about  it.  It's  all 
my  fault.  Yet  he  is  horrible,  a  persecutor  of  the 
Christians.  How  can  I  ask  his  pardon?  Yet  I  feel 
I  must." 

"Don't  worry  about  that,"  Fenn  murmured  sooth- 
ingly. "Just  send  and  inquire  after  his  health.  He 
will  quite  understand.  The  Turks  neither  offer  nor 
expect  apologies.  They  are  too  proud.  They  never 
even  plead  their  case  before  the  world.  The  native 


304  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

Christians  make  the  most  of  theirs.  Always  remem- 
ber that  when  you  hear  Turks  accused." 

To  change  a  subject  which  distressed  her,  he 
remarked  facetiously :  "Do  you  know  what  the  Con- 
sul said  to  me  the  other  day?" 

"No,"  murmured  Elsie,  with  her  handkerchief  to 
her  eyes.  "Something  horrid,  I  am  sure.  He  hates 
me." 

"My  devotion,  I  suppose,  was  pretty  evident.  He 
called  me  a  young  fool,  and  advised  me  to  fly  for 
my  life.  'That  girl  is  hopeless,'  he  informed  me. 
'She'll  always  have  some  craze  or  other.  This  time 
it  was  missionizing.  Next  time  it'll  be  Christian 
science  or  votes  for  women.  I've  seen  her  kind  before. 
They  generally  end  uppfy  becoming  that  which  they 
at  first  most  hated.  This  one  will  die  a  Muslimah,  I 
shouldn't  wonder !' " 

"And  what  did  you  say?"  questioned  Elsie  with 
keen  interest. 

"Well,  I  tried  to  make  the  idiot  understand  that 
I  preferred  a  woman  of  some  spirit,  capable  of 
strong  enthusiasms,  being  myself  a  cynical  and  quiet 
person." 

"You  are  nothing  of  the  kind !" 

"And  as  for  your  turning  Mahometan,  I  explained 
that  that  would  interest  me  very  much,  because  I 
like  Mahometans  and  have  studied  their  books  a  bit. 
Christian  science  and  the  case  for  woman's  suffrage 
I  have  not  investigated,  but  your  enthusiasm  for 
those  subjects,  supposing  you  became  my  wife,  would 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  305 

give  me  the  opportunity  and  the  incentive  needed 
for  their  mastery." 

"Whatever  did  he  say?" 

"Nothing.  He  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  de- 
parted." 

"You  ought  not  to  have  talked  like  that.  That 
really  was  too  cynical." 

"I  meant  it  and  still  mean  it,  heart's  delight!  I 
don't  care  what  you  believe  or  say  or  do — I  mean  I 
should  be  interested  in  it  all  and  learn  from  it,  so 
long  as  you  are  you,  and  I  have  got  you  for  my 
own." 

"Do  you  mean  that?" 

"I  do  most  honestly." 

Elsie  of  her  own  accord  flung  both  her  arms 
around  his  neck  and  kissed  him.  The  action  would 
have  been  unthinkable  for  both  an  hour  before. 
Words  were  banished  for  a  time  as  quite  inadequate. 
Then,  smoothing  her  apparel,  Elsie  said:  "Do  you 
know  I  always,  from  the  first  time  when  I  saw  you 
at  my  aunt's,  knew  somehow  that  it  ought  to  end 
like  this?" 

"Did  you  indeed?  Then  you  deserve  sound  pun- 
ishment, for  you  have  led  me  a  wild  dance  since  then." 

"Now  will  you  tell  me  just  exactly  what  it  is  which 
makes  you  hate  the  missionaries?" 

"No,  I  won't,"  he  laughed.  "There  are  much  more 
profitable  things  to  talk  of  now.  Besides,  I  don't 
hate  them;  I  think  I  rather  love  them." 

"I  rather  hate  them  myself,  all  except  my  aunts. 


306  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR 

That's  why  I  wished  to  know  your  reasons.  I  have 
none,"  sighed  Elsie.  "I'm  afraid  I'm  really  wicked 
and  malevolent." 

"Then  what  must  I  be?"  was  the  chuckled  answer. 

They  spoke  about  the  future.  They  would  make 
their  home  in  England,  but  come  out  every  year  in 
spring  to  Deyr  Amun.  They  would  be  together 
always  and,  without  professing  to  do  good,  would  try 
to  do  no  harm  to  any  one. 

"The  lamp  is  going  out,"  said  Elsie  suddenly. 

"It  doesn't  matter.     It  is  getting  light  already." 

Fenn  £lew  out  the  lamp,  then,  going  to  the  window, 
pushed  the  shutters  open.  Elsie  followed.  The  light 
of  dawn  was  there  before  them,  although  the  slope  of 
Deyr  Amun  remained  immersed  in  night.  The  hills 
across  the  wady  and  the  distant  plain  were  coloured, 
though  the  stars  still  shone  above  them.  The  fir-trees 
on  the  terrace  stood  forth  like  cloaked  watchers, 
seeming  to  shiver  in  the  coolness  which  was  like  a 
breath.  Innumerable  cocks  were  crowing  in  the 
villages. 

Together  they  knelt,  leaning  on  the  window-sill, 
watching  the  growth  of  light,  the  birth  of  colour, 
till  Elsie's  head  drooped  down  upon  Fenn's  shoulder. 
She  was  tired  out.  Lifting  her  in  his  arms,  he  laid 
her  on  the  sofa  and  arranged  the  cushions  for  her 
comfortably. 

"I  feel  so  happy,"  she  informed  him,  and  fell  fast 
asleep. 


THE  HOUSE  OF  WAR  307 

"That  girl  shall  never  want  for  anything  while 
I'm  alive,"  Fenn  muttered,  apostrophizing  not  his 
sleeping  lady,  but  the  mental  image  of  Jemileh,  who 
had  locked  that  door. 

THE   END 


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